


Stripped Away

by Ginia



Series: Barriers [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Gladdy is your Daddy, Iggy needs to loosen up, Kinda Fluffy, M/M, Oral Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Spanking, Sub Iggy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-09-27 09:43:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 63,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10000328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginia/pseuds/Ginia
Summary: “Strip.”The word was a soft growl that caressed Ignis’s ear but rocked him to his very core.This was not the first time that Gladiolus had commanded the royal advisor to strip, in fact “Strip!” was the first thing he could recall the prince’s sworn shield saying to him. But Gods was this a far cry from that day …





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at an FFXV fic so please be gentle. Or not. Feel free to be merciless.
> 
> This is a slow burn, tags and rating added for future content. This is gonna turn into some deviant trash, fam. I love Ignis in all of his forms and the world needs more subby iggy.
> 
> This chapter doesn't have too much dialogue, and just a taste of the eventual smut. I promise, we'll get there.

“Strip.”

  
The word was a soft growl that caressed Ignis’s ear but rocked him to his very core.

  
He was kneeling in supplication upon cool marble tiles, wrists crossed elegantly at the small of his back, head bowed to fix his gaze humbly upon the floor, bound by the will of the man who stood before him, towering over him as was his right in the natural order of things. All he could see from this servile position was the other man’s boots, but his presence loomed over Ignis, he practically felt the crushing weight of the other’s gaze upon him.

  
This was not the first time that Gladiolus had commanded the royal advisor to strip, in fact “Strip!” was the first thing he could recall the prince’s sworn shield saying to him. But Gods was this a far cry from that day …

 

 *********************************

Two Years Earlier

  
Ignis strode down the corridors of the Citadel, his steps measured, back ramrod straight. He was, even as a boy of sixteen, the very image of control, dignity, and decorum. His lithe form was shrouded in a physical manifestation of decorum: starched shirt, perfectly pressed trousers, even a waistcoat and silk tie to complete the picture of utter propriety.

  
He paused upon reaching his destination, a set of ornate white doors contrasting elegantly against the onyx marble of the Citadel’s walls. Many times, he had escorted Noctis here, but never had he himself actually breached the threshold. This was the physical training room, a place to celebrate and cultivate brawn, not brains. Ignis was infinitely more comfortable in the Citadel library, his haven of knowledge and learning, the garden in which intelligence bloomed.

  
If Ignis had his way, he would have rooted himself firmly in the library and never left, but he answered to powers higher than his own, specifically the King and the young Prince. It was by the King’s orders that Ignis stood there, on the cusp of beginning his combat training. Rumour and unrest had been swirling about the Citadel, dark words murmured within Council meetings about the menacing shadow that Nifilheim was casting. It had been determined that it was in the Crown’s best interests that the prince’s Chamberlain become adept at combat, self-defence at the very least.

  
He allowed himself to huff out the barest of sighs before pushing a door open with a gloved palm, never knowing, never imagining that the greatest trial awaiting him on the other side of those doors was not physical, but mental.

  
As he entered, Ignis’ sharp teal gaze swept the room, keen mind quickly parsing the information his senses funnelled to his brain. A large room, of stark white marble, with pillars standing at attention at the edges of the room. At the far end of the room stood a massive weapons rack, its rows teeming with swords, lances, firearms, and everything in-between. The remaining wall space was adorned with tapestries and paintings, their vibrant hues striking against the austere white marble walls. Here and there along the walls were doors that lead, Ignis presumed, to locker rooms and possibly office space for some of the Crownsguard instructors or lesser officers.

  
And in the middle of all of this majesty and grandeur stood Gladiolus Amicitia, whose equally quick eyes had snapped to the doors at the slightest creak of hinges, assessing the younger man who had entered his domain.

  
Ignis met Gladio’s assessing amber gaze with his own cool teal, inclining his head in a polite nod before speaking formally. “Good afternoon. I’m Ignis Scientia. You must be Gladiolus Amicitia. I understand that you will be assisting me with my combat training.” Both being in the Prince’s service, they each knew who the other was, of course, but as they had never been formally introduced, Ignis had done what he knew etiquette demanded.

  
Gladiolus let out something more reminiscent of a bear’s growl than human speech before turning, hand gesturing casually to Ignis in a clear signal to follow him. He lead the Chamberlain through one of the previously-noted side doors that did indeed lead to a locker room. Crossing to a cabinet at the side of the room, he easily reached into the top shelf to pull down a bundle of folded cloth, tossing it unceremoniously in the general direction of Ignis’ head.

  
With his innately quick reflexes Ignis caught the bundle before it snapped him in the face, eyes narrowed slightly behind his glasses. The Shield could have taken half a second and an ounce of effort to actually hand the bundle to him, for Shiva’s sake.

  
A corner of Gladio’s lips quirked up in a cocky half-grin in response to the look of irritation flickering behind the younger man’s eyes.  
“Strip,” he said, folding his muscular frame onto a bench to wait

  
A salty retort about expecting flowers and dinner first danced on the tip of Ignis’ tongue but he managed to restrain himself – barely. He was, after all, here on the King’s orders as was Gladiolus, and he would be damned if he let the latter’s brash ways get in the way of performing his duty with anything less than the exquisite competence that he was known throughout the Citadel for. Giving his instructor a verbal lashing for his impertinence would have only served to reflect poorly on himself. He would be better than that, not stoop down to that level.

  
Ignis changed out of his suit in stony silence, taking due care to neatly fold the garments to at least minimize any wrinkling. Everything in him balked at Gladiolus’s attitude. He had known the Shield for all of five minutes and already he had rudely snubbed a greeting, ordered Ignis about with a mere gesture – not even Noctis was so crass as to stoop that low – not to mention hurling a training uniform at his head, tantamount to assault if one considered the massive size difference between the two men. Ignis could feel the heat rising in his body, but a life spent at court had taught him to hide his feelings without conscious effort, and his face remained a sedate mask.

  
It wasn’t until late that evening as Ignis was settling into bed for the night that it occurred to him that he had been so perturbed that he hadn’t had the frame of mind to feel modest or shy about stripping down to his briefs and changing in front of the Shield. Nudity, even partial nudity, was not something that Ignis was particularly comfortable with. He did not consider himself to be a terribly vain man, but he prided himself on presenting a refined image at all times, and he never quite felt that his lean, pale body was quite up to the high standard he held himself to. To his credit, Ignis had lead a life comprised almost entirely of extensive study, meetings, and the odd domestic task that he had undertaken for the Prince. Hardly a life that left him with time to soak up some sun, or build muscle.

  
A slight twinge of something akin to appreciation tugged at his heart. Was it possible that Gladio had pushed his buttons just enough to keep the advisor distracted?

  
Certainly, the tone of Ignis’ first training session had warmed dramatically once he was dressed in the soft gray cotton trousers and tank top that comprised the Crownsguard training gear. Gladio had cast another appraising glance over Ignis before he unfolded his bulky frame from the bench and reached out to the Chamberlain with a large hand, palm tilted gently in Ignis’ direction.

“Nice to formally meetcha. Yeah, I’m Gladiolus, but ‘course you knew that. We’ve both only been part of Noct’s retinue for, oh, six years or somehtin’. Geeze.” Amber eyes rolled a bit as he shook Ignis’ hand. His hand was massive, swallowing Ignis’ slim, aristocratic fingers. “You can call me Gladio, by the way.”

  
Ignis nodded again as the pair parted from their handshake. “Well met then, Gladio. You can call me Ignis,” he quipped, trying out a smile. The Prince had taken to calling him Iggy of late, but Ignis really was not fond of nicknames, and only tolerated one from His Highness because he was, well His Highness. High above him in status and therefore free to address his Chamberlain as he liked, and Ignis was hardly in a position to protest. That did not mean that he would encourage others to adopt the irksome habit.

  
“Alright then, Ignis, looks like you’re all set there. Let’s get this party started,” the elder invited.

***

All in all, Ignis considered his first combat training session to be a success. Granted his first impression of Gladio had been less than favourable, but once they were changed and in the main training hall, it had been as if Gladio had flipped a switch, becoming much more amicable and helpful. He had patiently gone through a few drills with Ignis, testing his current physical prowess, and together they devised a training schedule and regime that both parties were confident would be within Ignis’ means, and would be more than adequate for his duties.

  
As the weary advisor settled into sleep, he tried not to be too concerned about how disquieting his initial meeting with Gladio had been. What he should have been concerned about was why thoughts of the sworn shield were teasing his brain as he went to sleep. The warmth of his palm when the handshake had finally been offered, the impressive bulk of his muscles rippling beneath smooth skin, the rich timbre in his chuckle. No, these thoughts did not concern him at all.

  
They really should have.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ignis teeters on the edge of the rabbit hole and is too repressed to recognize a wet dream when he feels one.

The Citadel was quiet in the pre-dawn hours. Guards and servants continued to go about their business with hushed voices and muffled footsteps, as if fearful of waking those still asleep in the residential wings. There was a gentle stillness to the place that belied the flurry of chaos and activity that swelled within its walls each day. At that time of morning all was still and quiet.

Except for the strangled cry that ripped through the silence of Ignis’s quarters.

The walls were mercifully thick, and the corridors relatively barren, so fortunately for Ignis’s pride, none heard him.

Little dots of light popped in his vision as Ignis blinked, trying to bring his surroundings into clearer focus. The ceiling of his bedroom swam into view and he realized that he was in his bed. It took a few more moments for his other senses to catch up, and when they did he was keenly aware of the sorry state that he was in. He could feel the rapid staccato of his heartbeat, the breathless way his lungs struggled to fill, and the chill of sweat upon his brow. Then there was the ache, an odd mix of pleasure and discomfort radiating from his groin. A groin that felt distinctly sticky and uncomfortable against the cotton of his briefs.

“Gods …. “ he rasped into the darkness.

 His tired gaze flitted to the digital alarm clock on the nightstand, revealing that it was 4:07am, nearly an hour before he was due to rise.  With a groan he eased himself to a sitting position, one hand fumbling automatically to the cord of his bedside lamp, giving it a clumsy tug. He breathed a bit easier once the soft amber light poured into the room, chasing away the shadows of the night.

Something was quite plainly wrong with him.

Shaking his head, Ignis managed to extradite himself from the bedsheets which had become inexplicably tangled around his legs.

Ignis’s first order of business for the day was a shower. He could diagnose his ailments and assess his daily schedule later. He felt utterly filthy and he simply could not think straight when in such a state, sticky, sweaty, and much too warm. 

 He divested himself of his pyjamas, stowing them in the hamper on his way into the en-suite bathroom. He noted that his towel was hanging crookedly from the rack, and he automatically reached out to adjust it, tugging it until it was perfectly even. He then set about getting his shower ready, turning the dials until he attained optimum water pressure and a precise temperature of 40.5 degrees.

Stepping into the soothing spray he let out a gentle sigh of relief. He longed to wash his groin where evidence of his embarrassment lingered, but instead he lathered his hands and scrubbed at his hair first, as he always did, working his way down his body in the proper fashion.  He lingered in the shower just a bit longer than usual, he had the time to spare after all, but at length he determined that he was adequately clean, and he moved to turn off the water and exit the shower.

 Wrapped in a towel, he returned to his bedroom. His clothing for the day was hanging from the little hooks affixed to the front of his wardrobe, hung there last evening. He always laid out his attire for the following day, ever fearful that he might, in his pre-Ebony state, be too tired to note that his socks didn’t match his trousers, or that he was pairing the wrong tie with his vest.  He changed, though he left his vest, suit jacket and tie on their hangers for now, no sense in risking wrinkles when it was still some time before he would be leaving his rooms. Once he was at least partially dressed, he snatched his spectacles from their place on his nightstand.

Now that he was clean, he finally set himself to the task of figuring out what was wrong with him. He palmed his phone off of the desk, sliding it out of its docking station where it had been charging overnight. He folded himself into the wooden desk chair and began tapping away at the display. He pulled up a medical database that he had found to be relatively trustworthy – at least when coupled with his keen mind and some light background reading in modern medicine and human physiology.

 _Chills? Check. Tachycardia? Check. Shortness of breath? Check. Spontaneous Ejaculation?_ His cheeks flushed hotly as he tapped _check_.

Nimble fingers continued tapping, keen eyes squinting at the screen.  Nothing seemed to quite match his symptoms. Frowning, he also noted that he would have to consider the increase in his physical activity. Perhaps he had overdone it in combat training and these were the odd jumble of ways in which his body doth protest.

Erring on the side of caution, he closed the medical app and pulled up his text messages, tapping out a missive to Gladiolus:

_“I seem to be unwell this morning. Training seems ill-advised. May we resume in a few days? My apologies – Ignis”_

He set the phone aside and noted absently that he was already feeling considerably better. He could almost ignore the situation were it not for his inexplicable release. That was surely a symptom of something being amiss, and he only hoped that it was something as benign as having overexerted himself the previous day.

Ignis continued with his usual morning rituals, though a trifle earlier than usual. At his small kitchenette he started a pot of Ebony. He reviewed his and Noctis’s schedules (what was that odd twinge in his gut when he deleted the training session? Odd), skimmed through the list of emails that had arrived through the night, and went through the contents of his messenger bag to ensure that all of the day’s relevant reports and notebooks were tucked safely within.

He had just finished donning the rest of his suit and was sitting down with his cup of Ebony at last when a soft knock rasped at the door.  Ignis blinked, gaze flickering to the clock which by now read 5:35am. Still frightfully early for most people. Frowning, he abandoned his cup of coffee with a silent promise to come back for it and went to the door to unlock it and reveal the mystery early bird.

Ignis took an involuntary step back when the door opened to reveal Gladiolus of all people, donned in one of his Crownsguard tracksuits, hair mussed and eyes still dull with the look of a man who has not fully embraced wakefulness.

Amber eyes raked up and down Ignis’s form, taking in the fussy layers of his suit.  If anyone else had cancelled training claiming illness and then turned up for the day looking like the groom on top of a wedding cake Gladio would have called them out for the fucking liar they were. But this was Ignis Stunningly Proper Scientia. He knew the advisor well enough by observation and reputation to know that he would never skive off training, and the man would have to be comatose to allow himself to face the day in anything less than a suit that met and exceeded royal protocol.

“Hey Ignis,” the elder greeted. “I was about to head out for a run and got your text. Thought I’d stop on over and seeya in person. Not a big fan of textin’.” He grinned sheepishly. “Big fingers, y’know,” and he wiggled the offending digits as evidence.

Ignis cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Ahh. My apologies if I messaged you at a poor time, and of course I am most sorry to have to put off training.”

“Nah don’t worry about it. You gotta listen to your body, man. You doing alright, though?”

“I am llkely to survive.” Ignis’s dry wit was as healthy as ever, though he softened the words with a smile.

 A flicker of something that may have been guilt passed over Gladio’s features, as if he too was concerned that Ignis’s illness may have been brought on by overexertion. Their training really hadn’t been strenuous, or so he had thought. Just some moderate drills to test and then continue to work on the lean man’s strength, endurance, and agility. Ignis had actually shown himself to be naturally agile and nimble, and Gladio had been focusing on that, rather than intensive weight training or cardio. Still, Ignis was a lifelong bookworm and pencil pusher. Perhaps it hadn’t taken much to push him past his limits.

“Alright, well, no training for a few days, even if your survival rate is 100%.” A pause. “You had breakfast yet?” When Ignis shook his head Gladio nodded. “Alright. Get your coat or whatever you need, you’re coming with me.”  Gladio had spoken with such matter-of-fact confidence that Ignis barely registered that he was essentially being ordered to breakfast rather than politely invited. Obediently he trailed after Gladio, messenger bag in hand, Ebony abandoned.

 

**********

 

The diner Gladio escorted him to wasn’t far from the Citadel, but the older man had insisted upon driving them there. Ignis had protested rather feebly, but in the end he admitted that his legs felt oddly rubbery, and perhaps it might be a bit of a relief to be chauffeured about for a change.

From the outside the place really wasn’t much to look at. It was a narrow building, adorned only by a chipped sign identifying it as Mama Sue’s.  Inside it was all black and white checkered linoleum floors and whitewashed walls. Deep green booths lined the place along one wall, a counter edged by matching green stools along the other wall. It was slightly gauche, as if someone had wanted a retro décor but gave up partway there.  Definitely not an establishment that Ignis would have chosen, and although Gladio was gruff and coarse, he was of a noble house and Ignis was surprised that he would have chosen such a place.

A grin split Gladio’s face, evidently reading Ignis’s unspoken doubts about the quality of the meal he was about to consume. “Trust me.”

“Very well, I shall defer to your judgement. My palate is in your hands.”

Chuckling, Gladiolus lead him to a booth, the vinyl cushions squeaking in protest under their weight as they sat. Ignis hadn’t time to further question Gladio as a waitress was already sidling up to their booth, a pair of menus and a pitcher of water in hand. Ignis picked up his menu and began his perusal, noting with satisfaction that at least the place served Ebony. He ordered a cup since he hadn’t gotten to finish his initial cup.

The menu was rather extensive, a fact which forced Ignis’s mouth to tug down disapprovingly. Often dives like this tried to serve too wide a variety of cuisine in an effort to appeal to as many tastes and cravings as possible while specializing in none. He expected that everything on the breakfast menu, from eggs to oatmeal would be bland, or at best mundane. Still, he did not wish to offend Gladio, not when they were only just becoming better acquainted, so he swallowed his sass and read the menu in silence. Perhaps pancakes would be okay, with enough syrup to mask the taste. Or toast. He could claim that he didn’t feel well enough to risk anything more elaborate.

As it turned out, Ignis was spared the trouble when the waitress returned with Ignis’s Ebony and her order pad.

“Have you boys decided, or do you need a few more minutes?” came her sunny tones. 

“Nah, we’re good,” Gladio answered for them both. Ignis bristled. His menu was still open before him, he had given no indication that he had made up his mind.

“Alright sugar, what’ll it be?”

“I’ll have a double order of waffles, with the whipped banana topping. “ The waitress nodded and turned towards Ignis. Ignis was on the cusp of just ordering toast, getting so far as an “I’ll ha-“ before Gladio spoke over him. “He’ll have the same. Erm, well, ‘cept I think a regular order’ll do for him.” Gladio chuckled.  The waitress laughed politely and nodded, turning to bustle off to call their order.

Ignis just sat there, dumbfounded.

Gladio had ordered for him. Cut him off mid -sentence. Hadn’t even asked him what he wanted, hadn’t asked if it was okay. If the damn waffles were so good he could have suggested them. Ignis was only a year Gladio’s junior, there was no need to treat him like a child. Angry patches of colour dusted his cheeks, fingers curled into fists atop the lacquer tabletop. He would have to say something. This wasn’t the first time now that Gladiolus had taken such liberties with him.

Before Ignis could speak, Gladio broke their silence and soothed the tension.

“Sorry for ordering for ya. I meant to say somethin’ on the way here. “ Gladio lowered his voice to a soft rumble that wasn’t likely to reach the other diners. “Most of their food’s pretty crap, but those waffles, and oh man, that banana stuff. It’s so good. But the damn menu is longer than most books I’ve read, figured it was slim odds you’d luck out and actually pick them,” he grinned conspiratorially.

Ignis blinked a few times as he absorbed Gladio’s words. In that few seconds his mind reeled, a tumult of conflicting thoughts. He had been impolite. He had saved him from ordering something vile in his ignorance. He had been pushy. He had been considerate. It was frustrating to let someone else dictate to him, other than the royal family. It felt nice to have the burden of choice taken from him and laid upon another’s shoulders.  In the end, much to Ignis’s surprise, it was this final thought that won out. It really had been nice to have someone else decide where to go, to chauffer him there, to lead the way, to take charge. He almost felt relaxed. Almost.

“Thank you,” Ignis said when he found his voice again. “That was actually very considerate of you.”

“I’m just that kinda guy.”

Ignis chuckled, and couldn’t disagree.  Undoubtedly Gladio was brash, he came on strong, and he pushed Ignis’s buttons. Yet he was somehow very calculated about it all in a way that seemed to put people at ease, and ensured that others were taken care of.  Including Ignis. From the way he handled Ignis in the training room to the way he just showed up at Ignis’s door to check on him. It was as if he knew what Ignis needed, and was unapologetic about making sure that Ignis got it.

Ignis took a sip of his coffee before venturing into the unfamiliar territory of small talk with Gladio. The warm, bitter drink was like liquid courage, waking him and heartening him, loosening his tongue. “Anything else here worth eating?”

“Maybe the ice.” Gladio gave his glass of ice water a playful shake, and Ignis chuckled again in response. This seemed to please Gladio. The Shield leaned back into the booth’s cushions, casting an appraising glance over Ignis.  

“Glad to see you relaxing a bit,” he said after a moment. “You were looking awful tense there for a bit. Even by your standards.” He frowned slightly. “Don’t relax much, do ya?”

An elegant brow arched at Gladio’s blunt but nonetheless astute commentary. “Perhaps. Being the Crown Prince’s advisor, secretary, chef, chauffer, maid and tutor is a full-time job. Several, even.” Ignis adopted the dry tone he usually reserved for Noctis when the Prince began to test his nerves. “I haven’t time for trifles like relaxation.” As he spoke he glanced down at his watch to verify the time, ensuring he was still on schedule for the day. “In fact, I need to be at Noct’s in forty-seven minutes to ensure that he is up for school with something to eat that’s not pre-packaged junk.”

“Gods, Ignis,” Gladio shook his head, piercing the other man with a fierce stare. “I’m gonna take that stick out of your ass and beat you with it.” He snorted. “Prince Charmless will survive, even if you don’t get there for fifty-one minutes.” Ignis opened his mouth to protest, but Gladio pressed onwards with a softer, more sober tone. “You’re not feeling your best. Won’t be able to do any of your dozen jobs for Noct if you get sicker."

Ignis sighed and nodded, spared the necessity of responding by the return of their waitress with their food.

It truly was delicious. The waffles were golden and crispy, but fluffy as clouds on the inside. Topped with a whipped banana topping that was just the right amount of sweetness to not be overpowering.

Gladio had been correct. About a great many things.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! We're getting to the smut, I promise!
> 
> On a serious note, I really want to dig deep into their relationship, both physically and psychologically. It's really important for my own peace of mind that their relationship be mutually fulfilling and happy, and I can't feel that way unless I firmly establish and spell out what's in it for them. I need to know beyond a doubt that Iggy is okay, and I need you guys to know it, too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ignis takes one step forward, and about a dozen steps back.

As the months wore on, Ignis and Gladio fell into a comfortable routine. 

The advisor’s schedule was always full to bursting, but he made an effort to ensure that at least once per week he had time immediately after combat training for a meal break, and that time was spent in the Shield’s company.  Gladio knew all of the best places to eat near the Citadel, and seemed more than happy to introduce Ignis to new culinary delights. Privately the larger man was just glad to see the Specky one actually sitting his damn ass down and enjoying a civilized meal, instead of picking at bits of sandwiches between meetings.

Early in their acquaintance Gladio had asked if Ignis had anywhere he wanted to go, or anywhere nearby that he particularly liked. Ignis had been forced to admit that he really didn’t know. His workload and around the clock attention to Noctis meant that Ignis seldom had the time to eat out, let alone the company to enjoy the experience with. He usually cooked for himself, and when he did dine out, he did so as part of the Prince’s retinue, and was usually too busy on such occasions to really pay the food that much mind.  Ignis had been slightly embarrassed to admit this, but he also knew that if anyone understood the rigors and sacrifices of duty, it would be the young Amicitia.

Gladio really did seem to understand. He seemed to understand what went both said and unsaid.  When a training session fell before a common meal time he would ask the younger man what he was up to after training. More often than not the answer was “council meeting” or “Noctis” but when Ignis would sometimes shrug slim shoulders and admit that he had a free hour or so, Gladio would always ask if he wanted to go out here or there, acting almost as if Ignis were doing him some great favour, when in truth both men knew that Gladio was well-liked amongst the Citadel staff and Crownsguard and was never without a companion if he wanted one.

Ignis tried not to question why it seemed that Gladio wanted his company. He knew that if he allowed his overactive intellect loose on the question he’d only come up with something pathetic, such as pity, or obligation.

The pair continued the practice of allowing Gladio to order for Ignis. Initially Gladio would let Ignis know about the restaurant’s specialties in advance so that the other could voice any objections he may have.  One afternoon the pair had set out for a late lunch and Gladio had advised that the café they were heading to was all around just excellent, Ignis should feel free to order whatever he fancied, Gladio gave the whole menu his personal seal of approval. Ignis had smiled complacently and asked Gladio to order for him anyway.

After that, Gladio stopped advising and asking, and simply took the reins and ordered for Ignis, and Ignis found that he couldn’t have been happier, and couldn’t have looked forward to their irregular outings more.

 

*******

The Shield and the Advisor were walking through the training hall, the former waving in absent greeting to the other Crownsguard members who were now coming in for their own sessions.  Ignis had a relatively free day after this. The King was taking Noctis out for some rare father-son time at a nearby fishing hole, which meant that there were no meetings to attend, and no Noctis to take care of. The Prince was being picked up from school directly by Regis and his own shield, Clarus so Ignis didn’t even have to worry about that trivial matter. Ignis would still be busy, of course. He had reports to review and summarize, next month’s schedule to draft, and he wanted to give his quarters a thorough cleaning.

A few steps outside of the training hall, Gladio reached a heavy hand to Ignis’s shoulder, a silent request for the other to stop. The touch felt blazing to Ignis even through his many layers of clothing, and he tried not to jerk away in response. The younger man halted obligingly, turning to face the brunet, having to tilt his head slightly to meet warm amber eyes with his own cool teal.

Gladio adopted a casual pose leaning against the wall, itching at the back of his neck absently. “You wanna do me a solid?”

“A solid what?”

Gladio rolled his eyes. “It’s a figure of speech, man. Means a favour. Do you wanna do me one?”

Colour leapt to Ignis’s cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment at not understanding the colloquialism and discomfort at the way Gladio had said “do me one.” Even poor repressed Ignis wasn’t wholly immune to the other’s charms, a fact he was becoming more conscious of by the day. He took a deep breath and subtly averted his gaze from the image of Gladio before him, looking far too perfect with his sculpted body and chiseled jawline. 

“If I can, certainly.”

Gladio huffed an exasperated sigh, but he grinned as he spoke. “Dad’s gonna be busy with His Majesty ‘til Gods-knows-when, and Jared’s away for the rest of the week, visiting family in Duscae. Which means I gotta hold down the fort at home and look after Iris.” He made a face. “Mind keeping me company?”

Ignis slid his gaze back to Gladio’s face appraisingly. The other seemed perfectly sincere, he might even say the man looked earnest. Ignis could do most of his to-do list just as well from the Amicitia manor, so why not?

“Very well, so long as you don’t mind if I bring some paperwork with me?”

Gladio’s face split into a wide grin. “Excellent, thanks. If it’s just me and Iris she always ropes me into playing tea party and pretty ponies and shit.” Gladio shuddered visibly. “ Do you need to get your stuff?”

“Yes, I just need to fetch my bag from my room.”

“Cool. I’ll meet you at your car? Your usual spot?”

Ignis merely nodded and the two parted company briefly while the smaller man hastened to his chambers to fetch his things. He made sure that his laptop, phone and stack of reports were all tucked inside of his bag. As he swept his sharp gaze over his room he noted rain pelting at the windowpane. He was unlikely to be outside much, just the distance from the car to Gladio’s door, but still, he grabbed his umbrella from the stand by the door before making his way out to meet Gladio in the underground parking garage.

As he rode the elevator down, Ignis caught a glimpse of his reflection in the brassy doors.  Even in that flawed mirror he could see the colour high in his cheeks and the extra sparkle in his eyes. He let out a slow breath, trying to calm his emotions, his hormones, into something at least close to his usual order. “Honestly Scientia,” he thought to himself bitterly, “get a grip. You haven’t time for an infatuation, and even if you did, this one would be most inappropriate.”

Ignis had schooled his appearance into something more refined and sedate by the time the elevator chimed to herald his arrival at his floor. He stepped through the doors and started towards his car. As he rounded a corner he came to an abrupt halt, confronted by the sight of Gladiolus standing rather awkwardly behind Ignis’s car. Gladio looked up at the sound of Ignis’s approaching footfalls, a look of apology darting across his features.

“Again?” The advisor sighed. “Really?”

“Seems so. Shit. Want me to track them down?”

Both men turned their gaze to the source of the drama.

Ignis’s assigned parking spot was in the corner of the garage, just around the corner from the elevator. A reasonably prime spot, out of consideration for his position as the Prince’s advisor. Not quite as prime as members of the King’s inner circle, but close.  It was widely known, however, that Ignis seldom drove his own car. When he escorted Noctis out of the Citadel they usually rode in Crownsguard vehicles with an assigned driver. Ignis typically only drove off-site in his own vehicle to run the occasional errand that could not be facilitated within the Citadel’s walls.  As a result it was common practice for other staff members to take some creative liberties with the parking arrangements by inventing a parking space perpendicular to Ignis’s, blocking him in as he did not have sufficient room to maneuver his vehicle without doing extensive damage to all of the cars around them.

Ignis huffed a sigh. “No, it could take hours to track down the culprit.”

“I betcha I can shove it out of the way.”

Ignis managed a soft chuckle and shook his head. “There are security cameras, Gladio.”

“So?”

“So maybe the owner of the offending vehicle is bigger than you.”

Gladio puffed out his already impressive chest, pecs rippling beneath his gray Crownsguard tank. “Ain’t no one bigger than yours truly.”

Ignis rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek to stifle another laugh. He really should not be encouraging Gladio so.

“We walkin’ then? Or did you just want to stay back?”

“No, let us proceed on foot. The manor isn’t far.”

Gladio nodded and the two turned to wend their way through the garage, towards the pedestrian door that was a level up from their current position. Gladio frowned slightly at the sight of the rain streaking through the bleak gray sky.

“Here,” Ignis gently sought Gladio’s attention.  “Take this.” The Advisor held out the umbrella.

Gladio quirked a brow at the younger man and quickly held his hands up in front of him, as if to fend off an attack. “Hell no. I can’t take your umbrella when it’s fuckin’ raining like we done pissed off Leviathan.”

“You’re only wearing a tank top. Think of your health.”

“Think of my fucking pride as a man. How’s it gonna look if I’m all cozy and dry and the scrawny specky guy gets soaked?” Gladio snorted.

Ignis’s eyes flashed angrily behind his glasses, jaw clenching and unclenching in vexation. He had the look of a man who clearly would brood no further arguments on a subject. “This specky one has three layers on, and his bag is waterproof.”

A low growl issued from Gladio’s throat, but he took the umbrella. He had the sense to recognize that look on the younger man’s face. Arguing would get them nowhere. He could refuse to use the umbrella, but he suspected Ignis would do the same thing, and then they’d just be a pair of fools getting drenched when they had a perfectly usable umbrella between them. If he gave in to Ignis’s demands then they would be one drenched but noble fool and one dry asshole. He would have to stomach being an asshole.

The Amicitia manor was only a few blocks from the Citadel, and the pair made reasonable time, only being held up at one intersection when the light turned red moments before they got there. As they had stood there in the hammering rain Gladio kept shifting his gaze guiltily to Ignis. It was as if each drop of rain that hit Ignis was a personal insult to the Shield.  When they finally arrived, Gladio shepherded Ignis through the front doors and into the foyer and assessed the damage.

Really it wasn’t that bad, Ignis thought. His hair was soaked, but it had already been a bit damp from the shower he took after training. His pant legs were unfortunately drenched up to his knees and his suit jacket dripped in a most undignified manner onto the hardwood floor. His waistcoat was dry, and except for some dampness at the collar his shirt was also dry. Ignis removed his glasses which were too rain-spotted to be of use and tucked them into his shirt pocket until he could dry them.

Both men toed off their footwear, placing them neatly in the shoe rack by the door.  Gladio shook out the umbrella and tucked it into an ornate stand beside the front door.

“Here, gimmie your jacket.” Gladio held a hand out. Ignis didn’t argue, his jacket was uncomfortable in this state. He shrugged it off and handed it over.

“Wait here just a sec, I’ll be right back.” Gladio jogged off through a side door and out of sight, though Ignis could hear him clattering and banging about in the depths of his family home. While he waited, Ignis looked around, taking in what little he could see from the foyer. The Amicitia manor was lovely, he thought. Lustrous wood floors overlaid with ornately-patterned rugs.  The walls panelled in rich dark woods that matched the antique furniture Ignis could see. To his left there appeared to be a large sitting room where a fire crackled soothingly in an electric fireplace, and what appeared to be a massive kitchen was at the end of the hall across from him. A grand staircase was to his right, winding its way to the upper storeys.

True to his word Gladio hadn’t taken long, and he returned with his arms full of towels and what looked like the familiar gray bundle of a Crownsguard tracksuit.  He set most of his burdens on a nearby bench and handed a few towels to Ignis first so that the younger man could pat himself dry as well as he could. Gladio also snagged a towel for himself, running it over sculpted biceps and shoulders that were just a bit too broad to have been safely contained beneath the umbrella.  Once Ignis looked more like a human again and less like a drowned rat, Gladio handed him the tracksuit.

“You can change in my room. Second door on the left.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the staircase. “I’ll be up in a few, just gonna clean this up.”

Ignis nodded. “My thanks, Gladio.” He checked to ensure neither he nor his laptop bag were in any danger of dripping rainwater on Clarus’ nice rugs before he padded upstairs.

He found Gladio’s room easily, and was impressed as the door swept inwards to reveal the Shield’s childhood domain.  He knew that Gladio spent more nights than not at his own quarters in the Citadel but evidently he was still home often enough that Clarus hadn’t thought it prudent to convert the room to another purpose.  Large windows adorned the back wall, casting steely gray light for Ignis to see by. He located the light switch beside the door and flicked it on, casting the room in warm golden light from several lamps.  A large bed dominated the left-hand wall, while the rightmost half of the room was consumed by a small couch, squashy-looking armchairs, and an entire wall of bookcases.  Ignis’s eyes widened involuntarily. He didn’t know what exactly he had expected, dumbbells and car magazines? He shook his head, sternly reminding himself that Gladio was an Amicitia, a storied and noble house. Of course his bedroom would be the same as any well-bred young man’s.

Reminding himself that the Shield would be along any moment, he hastened to change out of his remaining damp clothing. The Crownsguard attire was a bit big on him. It was obviously one of Gladio’s old sets as it wasn’t quite massive enough to fit the Shield now. Ignis had to roll the pantlegs up a bit, and pull the drawstring tight around his lean hips to keep them up. The t shirt Gladio had provided wasn’t too bad, though, and he was secretly grateful that it wasn’t one of Gladio’s many tanks. He would have looked downright foolish in one with his slim arms.

Ignis didn’t know what he ought to do once changed. Gladio had indicated that he would be up shortly, so he deemed it best to wait here instead of wandering aimlessly about the manor. He wandered absently over to the bookcase, his curiosity overwhelming his good manners. What did the seemingly brutish man like to read? He flicked his gaze across the rows of book spines, noting that most were lightly bent, showing signs of wear and use. Ignis recognized many of the titles on one shelf as popular fiction for young adults. Another shelf contained books that he remembered from his school days, though he had likely read them at a much younger age than most thanks to his accelerated learning regimen. There were rows of shelves containing books that were unfamiliar to Ignis, though some bore intriguing titles such as “Mastering the Art of the Self” and “No Defeat in Surrender”. Ignis fancied that these were works pertaining to military strategy or perhaps advanced martial arts disciplines. Those books tended to have titles along those lines.  The fires of curiosity blazed in his mind, overruling his good sense, as he reached for one of the volumes, the one about surrendering. Where most men would thumb randomly through the volume, Ignis had a lifetime of scholarly reflexes, and he immediately opened to the table of contents to quickly snapshot the materials the book would cover. If it proved interesting or useful he might ask to borrow it.

Ignis’s soft teal eyes were narrowed in concentration as he began to read, but they slowly widened, and widened, and widened.

_1.The Principles of Natural Order_  
_2\. The D/s Hierarchy_  
_3\. Understanding Subspace_  
_4\. Tools of the Dominant_  
_4a. Words_  
_4b. Bondage_  
_4c. Whips and Chains_

Ignis didn’t know if his horrified eyes would have stopped reading at that point of his own volition, or if the sound of a throat being cleared from behind him was all that made him stop, dropping the book in his surprise.

“Gods! Gladio, I’m so sorry!” Cheeks blazing crimson, Ignis stooped down, fumbling with suddenly clumsy fingers for the volume. He felt wretched for both the invasion of privacy as well as for dropping the book. As a book-lover himself he knew how prickly he felt when he saw people savagely manhandling his books. He knew that he ought to feel most aggrieved for the breach of Gladio’s privacy, and he truly did, but it was somehow easier to focus on the book, which suffered only a small scuff to a corner of the cover in the ordeal.  “I er, I think it’s okay, but I can get you another if you need. The corner, here, it’s um….” He trailed off, voice fading into obscurity, further mortified by his sudden inability to form a coherent sentence.

Gladio stood there, scratching the back of his head, giving the younger man a look like he’d grown two heads or a third eye or something. Ignis saw the larger man’s confused gaze flick from Ignis’s tomato-red face to the book held in trembling hands, realization suddenly dawning on the elder. Ignis inwardly cursed himself. Gladio hadn’t even noticed what book he’d been reading. He could have just slipped it back onto the shelf and acted like it was no big deal, but no, he had to go and uncharacteristically lose his composure. Now both men knew what Ignis had read, and what he would never be able to forget, even without his eidetic memory.

Ignis wanted to run. Run until he collapsed and the rain-soaked earth could swallow him whole.

Gladio stood between him and the door, his impressive bulk more than sufficient to entirely block Ignis’s escape without needing to move.

Ignis couldn’t run.

Had Ignis retained more of his impressive wits, he might have noticed that Gladio looked almost as stupefied as he did, and at least as horrified. There was no anger flashing behind warm amber eyes, only concern and surprise, and perhaps a touch of sadness.

“Ignis… “ Gladio’s voice was soft, gentler than his usual raw timbre. He held his hands up to his shoulders, palms outward as if to supplicate the distraught younger man. “Ignis it’s okay.” The larger man took a few steps forward, slowly, tentatively, as if stalking a skittish animal.

Ignis seized upon his opportunity. Head down he ran, lean body able to slip through the sudden opening that Gladio’s movement offered, and through the bedroom door.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there, fam! Thanks for reading! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so freaking much for reading, commenting, and kudosing (?) It means so much. I was terrified to post, having read so many stellar works from others. Whew 
> 
> Love yas, fam.

Ignis stumbled his way out of Gladio’s room. White noise roared in his ears, dulling his other senses. He had made it to the top of the wooden staircase when the front door banged open, jolting him sharply back to his senses and his shattered reality.

“Glaaaaddy!” The sing-song voice of Iris Amicitia.

Ignis froze, hands grasping the railing at the top of the stairs.

Iris tilted her pigtailed head, peering from side to side and then finally up, catching sight of the Prince’s advisor practically cowering above her. Conscious of his position, Ignis worked to school his features into the unreadable mask of polite neutrality that he usually reserved for diplomatic ventures.

“You’re not Gladdy,” stated matter-of-factly, almost accusingly.

“Nope, but I am,” came the rough voice from behind Ignis.  “Welcome home, little imp. Have a good day?”

Ignis silently marvelled at how easily Gladio had shifted gears, whatever had just happened between himself and Ignis clearly set aside when confronted with his duty to his little sister, to keep her safe and happy.

“Yup. Lots of homework, though.” Her petite nose scrunching in distaste.

Gladio chuckled fondly. “Yeah? Well why don’t you go on to the kitchen and have one of those fruit things Jared left for a snack? Ignis and I need to just finish some work stuff up real quick and then I’ll be down to give you a hand with that homework. Alright?”

“Alrighty!” Iris chirped happily, hanging her coat up to dry before skipping towards the kitchen.

Once Iris was safely out of earshot, Gladio ran his hand down his face in a gesture Ignis had often seen Clarus make, usually after some crisis or other has been averted. The Shield cleared his throat and murmured softly enough to ensure that Iris wouldn’t hear, even if she were attempting to eavesdrop. “If you need to go I won’t stop you.” He paused considerately, giving Ignis a moment to snatch up the offered lifeline before continuing on when Ignis remained silent. “If it’s okay by you, we can talk for a few minutes in my room?”

Ignis’s fractured nerves had calmed slightly during the brief exchange with Iris. It was remarkable how if one made the effort to appear calm and collected, one’s body would begin to follow suit. He took a deep breath before speaking, ensuring the breath was steady before daring to speak. “Of course. We can talk.”

Relief flooded Gladio’s features, and Ignis could see the other man visibly relax as he lead the way back to the Shield’s room. Once inside, Gladio closed the door, and gestured towards the couch and armchairs.

“Have a seat,” he smiled.

Ignis nodded, moving to one of the armchairs, making an effort to look as dignified as one could while wearing oversized sweats and a t shirt, hair limp and stringy with lingering rainwater. He expected Gladio to follow suit and sit on the couch or the other chair, but instead he walked over to the cupboard beside the bed, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out what looked to be a blue knit blanket.

“Sorry,” the older man murmured as he finally moved towards the little sitting area. “You’re used to all of those fussy layers and stuff, I forgot you’d be cold in just a t shirt.” Gladio stopped a pace away, the blanket held out to Ignis’s reach. The Advisor took it, momentarily confused, until he realized that he was shivering.

“Thank you.” Ignis murmured, and drew the blanket about himself, doing his best to not look absolutely pathetic in the process. They both knew that Ignis wasn’t cold, he was upset and his nerves were shattered, but neither was willing to admit to that for the sake of Ignis’s dignity.

With a little groan Gladio finally settled himself in the other armchair, somehow managing the impressive feat of curling himself up to sit cross-legged on the cushion, his bulky frame barely fitting despite how large and plush the chair was.

“Do you want to go first? Or do you want me to?” That same gentle voice Gladio had used earlier.

“I fear I may be a mess of incoherent apologies at the moment.”

Gladio’s lip twitched, as if he were amused by how eloquent Ignis managed to be when he was ‘incoherent’, but he quickly shifted his expression back to the look of quiet concern he’d worn the past few minutes.

“Okay,” the Shield began, and took a deep breath. “Let me get two things out of the way here.” He leaned forward slightly, as if those few inches could somehow drive home whatever points he was about to make. “First of all, I really don’t care if you looked at any of my stuff. Trust me. When you have a little sister like Iris you learn quickly to put anything really incriminating under lock and key.” He chuckled, as if fondly remembering some of Iris’s exploits. “If I like someone well enough to invite them into this house, or into this room, then I like them enough that they’re welcome to whatever they want in here.” He gestured aimlessly at the room at large. “Just don’t go picking any locks you find.”

A faint smile had crept across Ignis’s lips as Gladio spoke, his tone and words were a soothing balm to Ignis’s battered pride. The Advisor even managed a weak laugh at the jest about lock picking.

“Second of all,” Gladio continued, leaning back in the chair, obviously relieved at the effect his words were having. “I don’t care if you mess up any of my books. Not that you did or anything, by the way, I’m just saying that if you did, I wouldn’t care. All of this stuff is just, you know, stuff. It’s replaceable. People aren’t.” He shrugged, then leaned forward again, trying to meet Ignis’s gaze through the reflection on the Advisor’s glasses. “So if any of that’s been bothering you, you can stop, okay? And no need to apologize for that stuff, either. I won’t have it.” A firmer edge had crept into his voice, ensuring that Ignis knew that he was serious about not wanting nor needing any apologies for those two points.

Ignis simply nodded. He had been struck mute by Gladio’s speech, such as it was. He had seldom heard the man’s gruff voice gentled like this, seldom seen him so earnest, so serious. This was a side of Gladio that didn’t belong in the training room or the Citadel. There was a heartfelt honesty about the man that Ignis somehow knew was only reserved for private moments, and true friends.

Gladio let out a long breath that he must have been holding in. “Glad we’re good. We are good, right?”

Ignis’s always found the “melt your heart” turn of phrase a bit odd. The heart was a warm organ pumping hot blood through the system, there was nothing to melt, it was already hot. In that instant, Ignis understood. He looked at Gladio, curled in his chair, looking at him with big puppy dog eyes, asking, no pleading with Ignis for them to just be okay.

Ignis melted.

“Of course.” Ignis cleared his dry throat. “Of course we’re good, Gladio. Thank you. I truly cannot tell you how much I appreciate your understanding. And if you will permit me to apologize for anything, please allow me to say how sorry I  am for how poorly I reacted. I was, well, I thought that book was something else. I was merely caught off-guard.”

Gladio’s gaze flicked towards the ceiling, in a “thank the Six” gesture before lowering to meet Ignis’s again. “Listen, about that. I wanted to talk to you about that as well. Not exactly the way I would have chosen to broach the subject, and maybe not quite the time, but shit happens. If you think you’re feeling up to it, can we talk about it later?”

“Certainly.” Something warm and fluttery was happening in his stomach. He was uncertain how to classify the sensation, and filed it away for future contemplation.

“Awesome. Alright, we better get down to Iris before she burns down the house, or paints it pink or somethin’.”

Ignis laughed softly and eased himself out of the comfortable chair, opting to leave the cozy blanket behind, as he was no longer trembling with cold or nerves.  Gladio rose as well, stopping briefly to scoop up Ignis’s wet clothes and remaining towels.

“I’m just gonna run these down to the laundry room, I’ve got your suit jacket drying down there already.” He rolled his eyes at Ignis’s stricken expression. “On a drying rack. Don’t worry, I just assume everything you wear is hand wash or dry clean under a full moon kinda shit.”

Ignis refrained from rolling his own eyes in response, simply nodding in appreciation. The Advisor bent down to pick up his laptop bag, hefting it over a shoulder. He followed Gladio out of the room and along the corridor, back down the stairs to the front entryway again. The Shield motioned Ignis into the sitting room he had noticed earlier, before heading to the laundry room to take care of Ignis’s wet things.

Ignis settled himself onto one of two brown leather couches in the room, separated from each other by a low tea table. The electric fire blazed cheerily to his left, illuminating the cozy makeshift workspace. With a satisfied little hum, he began pulling his things from the bag, setting the laptop and reports out on the table, and checking his phone for messages before stowing that safely in the pocket of his borrowed pants.  He was just entering his computer passwords when Iris and Gladio both entered the room, coming from their separate directions.

“Hello Iris,” he offered politely, smiling at the young Amicitia lady.

“Hey Ignis! How’s Noctis?”

“His Highness is doing well. He just messaged me to let me know that he’s already caught a few fish, so their little group isn’t going to starve tonight.”

Iris giggled appreciatively.

“Hey,” Gladio’s voice cut in. “Don’t bug Ignis. He’s got work to do.” He reached down to tug a pigtail. “As do you. Homework. Chop chop, or I’ll chop one of these off.”

Iris batted his hands away playfully, but went to collect her school things with good humour.

The afternoon and early evening passed pleasantly. Ignis typing away at his laptop, keen eyes flitting back and forth between the screen and the folders of documents. Iris lay sprawled like a cat before the soothing warmth of the electric fire, what appeared to be a math book open before her. Gladio had taken possession of the other couch, leaning down from time to time to help Iris with a problem or even just to look over her shoulder to make sure that she was getting the correct answers.  At some point Gladio had gotten up to fetch them all drinks. Ignis looked up after completing a summary of an agricultural report to find a can of Ebony on the table, while Iris and Gladio were sipping something that smelled like hot chocolate. He hoped he hadn’t been so absorbed in his work that he had missed anyone asking him about a beverage, and he hoped that his “thank you” didn’t come shockingly late.

After a few hours Ignis looked up from his work again, having finally completed the reports and schedules. He found that the sky had melted from gray to black, and someone had turned on the overhead chandelier for additional light. Iris was still sprawled before the hearth but now she was playing a game on her phone instead of studying. Gladio had gotten up and could be heard bustling about in the kitchen.

As if on cue the Shield’s head poked around the doorway to the sitting room and he caught Ignis’s eye.

“Oh good, you finally came up for air.” Gladio flashed a grin. “Do you want to stay for supper?”

At the mention of food something in Ignis’s stomach jolted. He was rather hungry, but he didn’t want to intrude or be a burden. Gladio must have noticed the dilemma written across the younger man’s face because he held up a reassuring hand. “It’s all stuff Jared prepped before he left. He made way too much of everything, since there’s no telling when both Dad and I will be here for dinner.”

“Yeah!” Iris piped up. “Not even Gladdy can eat both Dad’s share and his own.”

“Alright,” Ignis agreed, more for Iris’s sake than his own. Her enthusiasm was infectious. “Thank you. May I be of any help?”

“Nah. It’s heating up now, no big deal. Jared did all the work.”

Thus Ignis found himself seated around the Amicitia’s informal kitchen table with Iris and Gladio, the three of them passing several casserole dishes around until they all had full plates. Ignis noted that the dishes were still half-filled even with his own assistance at emptying them.  It was an exceedingly pleasant meal. The food was delicious, Jared was an excellent cook and even re-heated his cuisine scored high marks with Ignis. Iris and Gladio kept up a cheerful flow of conversation, both being sure to include Ignis. He couldn’t recall the last time that he had felt so warm and so welcome somewhere. Ignis didn’t often long for a normal or traditional family life, but a tiny part of his heart was twinging with longing as he looked around the large but cozy kitchen and the two people who filled it with so much warmth and heart.  

When they had all eaten their fill, Gladio pushed his chair back from the table with a satisfied grunt. The elder of the group began bustling about the kitchen, packaging the leftovers in little containers for he and Iris to use as lunches the next day. Iris thanked Gladio for helping with supper before speeding off back to the sitting room with her phone. Chuckling at the girl’s exuberance, Ignis rose from the table as well, moving to push in all three chairs. He looked around to get his bearings in an unfamiliar kitchen before deftly springing to action, gathering their dinnerware and taking it to the sink to rinse before it could be loaded into the dishwasher.

“Hey, you’re a guest!” Gladio protested from where he stood by the fridge.

“I’m sorry. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, not really.” A shrug. “Just don’t want you to feel obligated. I’m not Noct.”

“It’s fine.” Ignis offered a rare genuine smile. “I want to.”

“As you were then, soldier. Don’t let me stop you.” Gladio smirked and moved to sit back down at the table, propping his feet up on the chair Iris had recently vacated.  He watched Ignis with mirthful brown eyes as the Advisor continued rinsing and loading the dishwasher, then gave the countertops a quick wipe with a damp cloth.

Ignis turned to regard Gladio over the curve of his shoulder, hands still busily wiping down the kitchen surfaces. “You know, a great deal of what I do isn’t technically my job. I simply enjoy doing those things for Noct, for people whom I care about. It really doesn’t bother me. In fact if there’s anything you need help with while Jared’s away, I’m at your disposal this evening. I have no additional duties unless Noctis happens to call, which I doubt.”

Gladio waved a hand and straightened, feet planted upon the floor once more. “Nah, thanks for offering, though. I did still want to talk to you if you’re up to it, though. Iris’ll be going to bed within the hour if you can wait?”

“Ahh right. Certainly.”

“Cool. In the meantime, want to just chill? Any requests?”

“I am content to, ahem, chill.”

Gladio snorted back a laugh and got up, heading back into the sitting room. He pressed a button embedded in the arm of the couch that Ignis hadn’t noticed before, and the wood panel above the fireplace retracted, revealing a television. Gladio flipped it to a news channel before pulling out his phone to catch up on the past few hours.

******

An hour later Iris had bid Ignis goodnight and thanked him for coming over. Gladio tucked her into bed and then retreated to his bedroom with Ignis. The pair reclaimed the armchairs they had previously sat in, and Gladio once more crossed his legs as if he were trying to make himself as small and non-threatening as a behemoth like him could be. The only difference this time was Ignis had forsaken the blanket, and Gladio had a few choice books resting in his lap.

“Okay, so … “ Gladio trailed off momentarily, brow furrowed. “It occurs to be now that I don’t know exactly what you read or what you know at this point. In the interest of not having another goddamn massive misunderstanding, d’you mind letting me know kinda where you’re at with all this?” He gestured to the books he was holding.

Ignis cleared his throat. He had been prepared for this and managed to speak without stuttering over his words or blushing. “I read the first I believe seven entries in the table of contents to ‘No Defeat in Surrender’. I also have a rudimentary knowledge of those matters in so much as I seem to have a rudimentary knowledge of pretty much everything.”

Gladio nodded, eyes thoughtful. He looked as if he were warring with himself, the Shield was gnawing uncharacteristically at his full bottom lip. After a few moments of strained silence Gladio finally asked what had been weighing on his mind all evening. “Does it bother you that I have books like this? That I might be interested?”

Ignis had been prepared for this as well. He had doubted that Gladio owned these volumes as simple reference materials or because he had taken some class in human sexuality and psychology. “No, Gladio. It doesn’t bother me. Nor is it likely to affect our working relationship.”

“And our friendship?” Gladio’s voice was just a touch softer than normal.

“Perfectly intact.” Ignis smiled warmly.

“Gladio let out a long, low breath, letting his head fall back into the cushions of his chair. “Oh man. I’m really glad to hear it. I take back some of those times I said you had no chill.”

“When did you… ?”

“Lotsa times.” Gladio coughed. “Behind your back.”

“Lovely.” Ignis offered dryly.

Gladio chuckled and leaned forward, moving to set his books on a side table and let his long legs uncurl. “Have you ever thought about this stuff in regards to your own self, Ignis?”

The Advisor tipped his head to the side, regarding Gladio thoughtfully. “No. Why, have you?” He tried to inject some whimsy into the words, but wasn’t sure he succeeded when he saw the serious look that swept Gladio’s features.

“Actually,” Gladio looked down for a moment, then tipped his gaze up to regard Ignis through a splay of dark lashes. “Yes I have.”

Ignis quirked a delicate brow. “Oh? Please go on.” Ignis struggled to maintain his composure. His insides were roiling, churning and blazing amid the chaos of unfamiliar feelings and fresh anxiety.

“I think it would be good for you,” Gladio continued with his gentle tone. “I’m a pretty good judge of people, and if I’m honest with you, I’ve never been wrong when I’ve approached other people about this stuff. So I’m not saying all of this to you lightly. I’ve thought about it a lot. I wanted to be sure, before I go putting my perfect record at stake.”

Ignis closed his eyes and let his breath out slowly. So many thoughts jockeyed for position in his head. Gladio had given it, given him a great deal of thought. Gladio thought Ignis would like BDSM. Gladio had discussed BDSM with other people too, and Ignis wondered who. Ignis was mentally recapping his experiences with Gladio, looking for signs that Ignis had missed, and signs that Ignis may have given that lead Gladio to this conclusion. Eventually the academic in him won out. He required further evidence before he could come to a reasonable conclusion.

“Why? Why me? What makes you think.. ? “Ignis kept his voice soft, gentle in the same manner as Gladio. He didn’t want the other to mistake his questions as an accusation or denial. Fortunately Gladio seemed to understand.

“Initially it was just how, you know, stuffy you can be sometimes.” Gladio looked a bit apologetic, but Ignis took no offense, smiling faintly at the accusation. “Often the people who come across as the most uptight or whatever, well they tend to make the best subs because it’s like a mental vacation for them or something.”

“So you suspected based upon my reputation and some general stereotypes regarding submissives.”

“Yeah pretty much. Damn you make that sound cold, though.”

“My apologies, I really don’t always mean to do that.”

“Nah it’s cool. So anyway that’s just how the thought process started.  I mean there are loads of prigs out there who’d be miserable subs, that was just a starting point.”

Ignis’s lips melded into a thin line at the term prig, but managed to bite back any smart retort.

“I watched you. Not in a stranger danger kind of way or anything. But I paid attention to the little things, like how you’re always okay with letting me order for you when we go out, or the way you insist on keeping busy, doing little things for people that you don’t need to do. Like giving them your umbrella when you damn well know you had more right to it.” Gladio quirked a crooked grin.

“I’m sorry, Gladio, I just, that’s just how I am. I’m not trying to be anything special by it.”

“I know, that’s half the point right there, man. It’s like breathing to you. You’d make one hell of a good sub, if you’re interested.”

“I don’t know if I am, though.” Ignis paused, his eyes glazing over, losing himself in his own head for a moment. “Nor do I know that I do not want it. It’s rather a lot to take in.”

Gladio raked a hand through his dark hair, mussing it more than it already was. “Yeah, I totally understand. How about this, are you willing to read up on it a bit? I have a few books that explain it way better than I can. Maybe it’ll resonate with you, maybe it won’t. No pressure.”

Ignis smiled, relieved as Gladio turned the conversation in a familiar, comfortable direction. “I believe I can manage that. Whatever you recommend.”

Gladio beamed, the smile lighting up his rich amber eyes, carving rare dimples into his cheeks. He reached for two of the volumes on the side table and handed them over, his long arms easily breaching the distance between them.

“Hey listen, just so you know, if you do decide that you’re into this,” Gladio paused, looking away shyly before forcing his gaze back to Ignis. “I’d be more than happy to help you with it. But if you’d rather go down that road with someone else, I can help match you up with someone. I don’t want you to think I’m just saying all this to try to get something out of it, y’know?”

Ignis felt his cheeks heating with colour again. “I hadn’t even considered that. But thank you. That’s really thoughtful of you.” Ignis looked down at his lap while he regained his composure, eventually looking back up to offer Gladio a small smile.

With the hour being so late, they decided to call it an evening. Gladio rumbled something silly about not wanting Ignis to walk back to the Citadel alone if it got much later, not when he was barely into his combat training and was still unarmed. 

Ignis waited in the foyer while Gladio retrieved his clothes which had since dripped themselves dry, bringing them to Ignis tucked into what looked like a repurposed grocery bag. Jared evidently believed in reuse and recycle.  Ignis slid the books into the bag, cushioning them against his folded clothing.

“I’ll launder and return your clothes to you at our next session,” Ignis promised.

“Nah, keep ‘em or toss ‘em. They don’t fit me anymore anyways.” Gladio quirked a wolfish grin, and moved to tower impressively over Ignis, so that the Advisor could feel the heat rolling off of the other man in waves. Ignis took a shuddered breath, catching Gladio’s scent, musky and spicy and he thought that if sunlight had a scent, it would be this.

“Very well.” Gods but his throat was suddenly dry.

Gladio leaned down, so that his words fell against the shell of Ignis’s ear amid a rush of warm breath. “Good boy for offering, though.” With a parting tease of his fingertips through Ignis’s soft hair, the Shield turned away, chuckling. “Night.”

Breathless and speechless, Ignis murmured something that even he couldn’t decipher, and slipped out into the soothingly cool night.

*****

Many hours later an alarm chimed on Ignis’s phone, reminding him that he had precisely five minutes to go to bed if he wanted to get enough sleep that night to be functional in the morning. Sighing, he slipped a bookmark between the pages of ‘No Defeat in Surrender’ and obediently went to his bed, stowing the volume safely in his nightstand and turning off his lamp.

He curled himself beneath his quilt, clad in only Gladio’s old shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week on "Who's Your Daddy? It's Gladdy!" Episode 5, Spankage!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a teensy bit long, sorry. Gladio was chattier than expected, and I didn't want to bump the previously promised spankage to chapter 6 when I had already promised it.

Ignis abhorred contradictions, and contradictory people. He considered himself to be a fairly straightforward, black and white person. He had even been called boring a time or two. Likely on a daily basis.

With a tired sigh he closed Gladio’s book and leaned deeper into his reading chair. It had only been a few days since his most memorable evening at the Amicitias’ and already he had finished the two books Gladio had loaned him.  He was a mess of contradictory thoughts and feelings in their wake, and he was relieved to finish if only to spare himself from additional self-loathing. How could something sound so painful, so terrifying, and so debasing, while simultaneously sounding so liberating, so tantalizing, and so safe? Some of the activities outlined in the books just seemed so gruesome. He couldn’t imagine himself performing such acts or having them performed upon his own person, nor could he imagine Gladio – kind, warm, friendly Gladio – doing them either.

His glasses had begun to slip, and he shoved them impatiently back up his nose with a finger, then fished his phone out of his pocket to text the Shield. He had promised to let Gladio know as soon as he had finished reading, and he saw little point in delaying the inevitable.

_“I have completed my extracurricular reading assignment.”_

He absently noted the time, knowing with a mixture of relief and disappointment that there would not be time to discuss the matter until tomorrow at the earliest.

Alas, additional contradictions to fuel his self-abhorrence.

He rose from his chair, muscles twinging in protest after hours of disuse. He began his nightly rituals, preparing his clothing and schedule for the following day, changing into nightclothes, washing himself up. As he made his way at last to his bed he noted the indicator blinking on his phone. Breath hitching uncomfortably, he scooped it back up to see the message, knowing who it would be from.

_“k great, talk tmr when ur done with noct?”_

Ignis cringed at the structure of the text, even though it was hardly unusual. Ignis always did hold himself to a different standard. Smiling slightly he tapped out a response.

_“That will be fine. I am typically back by 9:00, but will let you know if I run late. Have a good night.”_

He set the phone in its dock to charge overnight, and slipped into bed, trying very hard to not calculate the hours and minutes between then and 9:00 tomorrow. He failed spectacularly.

*****

The following evening Ignis was bustling about in Noct’s small kitchen, tidying up as usual after having prepared dinner and helped the Prince decipher some reports. Well okay, perhaps that evening had not gone as usual.  He had burnt the sauce and had to re-start dinner, dropped two spoons and one dishrag, and he was currently crouched in front of the sink, wiping up the water he had just spilled. Upon straightening he caught sight of Noct from across the room. The Prince’s eyebrows had arched so high as to have disappeared beneath his unruly fringe, a shocked look on his face.

“You okay there, Iggy?”

“Fine, Noct. Thank you, though.” He smiled weakly.

“Mhm. I think Prompto owes me 100 gil,” the teenaged Prince grinned.

“Come again?” Ignis furrowed his brows above his spectacles.

Noctis made a half-hearted attempt at supressing a snicker. “Oh, we have a bet going. He’s convinced you’re a robot and bet me 100 gil on it.” Ignis felt his jaw drop a few inches and smartly snapped it shut again. “There’s no way a robot would be as clumsy as you’ve been tonight, though, so I think this proves him wrong.”

“Could be,” Ignis murmured, his composure regained. “Or mayhaps I have received a software upgrade with advanced counter-detection techniques.”

Noctis’s chuckled good-naturedly. “Yeah whatever. Everyone who really knows you knows you’re not a robot.”

“Thank you, Noctis. That’s very-“

“The smart money is on alien.”

“Noctis …. “ He sighed, feigning exasperation, and was secretly pleased that their jesting had distracted Noctis from further questioning Ignis’s current inability to perform simple tasks. He had been a bundle of nerves all day, his longing for and dread of his meeting with Gladio mounted with each passing hour.

All too soon – or not soon enough – Ignis bid Noctis a good evening and made his way back to the Citadel.

*****

At 8:55 Ignis rapped his knuckles lightly upon the door of the Shield’s quarters. He heard a quiet shuffling from within before the door was swept inwards, revealing a smiling Gladio.

“Hi. Come on in,” the behemoth of a man stepped aside to permit the Advisor entry.

“Thank you, Gladio.” Ignis mustered a weak smile and stepped inside, toeing off his dress shoes upon breaching the threshold.

“Have a seat,” the larger man gestured vaguely at the living room as he himself made his way to the kitchenette. “Want anything? You eat?”

“I’m fine, I ate with Noctis. Thank you, though.” Ignis felt himself relax incrementally as he made his way through Gladio’s small living space. The Shield’s rooms were standard issue, much like Ignis’s own, though a bit smaller and certainly more sparsely decorated. It was a far cry from the warm, cozy, cluttered room at his family’s estate.  The main living space was open-concept, with a small kitchenette near the door, sectioned off from the rest of the space by a counter and barstools. A black leather sectional was nestled in the far corner of the room, just below a narrow window through which the hazy glow of distant streetlights filtered in. There was no formal dining space, just the kitchen counter or the black coffee table that matched the couch. Along one wall Ignis could see doors which lead, he knew, to a closet, bathroom, and small bedroom respectively. The only personal touches in the space were the untidy piles of books here and there, under the coffee table, beside the couch, on the kitchen counter.

Ignis made a mental note to see about requisitioning a bookshelf for Gladio.

He almost tripped over the edge of a thick volume of what looked like fairy tales.  He’d make that a rush order.

Ignis perched himself on one edge of the sectional and waited for Gladio, who joined him momentarily, setting down a bottle of some violently blue sports drink as well as a bottle of water, sliding the latter towards Ignis.

“So,” Gladio unscrewed the cap of his drink, pausing to take a long drink. Ignis tried desperately hard to not be distracted by the swell and bob of the other’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed.  He slid his gaze to the window, that was safer. “Any thoughts?”

“Many.”

“Typical.” Gladio rolled his eyes. “Good thoughts or bad thoughts?”

“Both.”

Gladio chuckled. “You’re not gonna make this easy, huh?”

“Apologies, it’s just rather a lot to be getting on with.”

“Yeah I know.  I shouldn’t tease you, I’ve been there. Okay, why don’t you start with the good?”

Ignis felt a relieved shiver chase down his spine. Had Gladio followed convention and had Ignis break the bad news to him first, he feared that he would have scared himself out of remembering or mentioning the good things, the happy, warm, excited feelings that his reading had evoked.

“Well, I cannot deny that the thought of giving up choice and control to someone else sounds like it could be very cathartic. In certain situations, at least. I do tend to think and analyze quite a lot, and believe me, Gladio, it’s exhausting.” A wan smile tugged Ignis’s lips.

“Mhm.” Gladio nodded but didn’t push his own thoughts onto Ignis, clearly inviting the other to continue unburdening himself of his thoughts.

“Some of the activities also bore some appeal. I understand physiology and psychology well enough to believe the author when they wrote about how pleasant it can feel, and the natural high one can attain.”

Gladio nodded encouragingly, golden eyes warm and intent upon Ignis’s. “That’s good.”

“Indeed,” Ignis smiled faintly even as he began wringing his hands in his lap. He had reached the end of the good, and it was coming time for the bad. Fear lanced through his gut, red-hot and aching. He offered silent prayers to the Astrals that his next words wouldn’t harm the other man or their friendship.  “Other aspects, though, I simply do not think that I could tolerate. Even if my duty to the Crown didn’t demand that I maintain a certain level of well-being, I just cannot imagine that I could ever learn to enjoy pain beyond a certain threshold, or degradation beyond a certain point. “ Ignis felt his teeth pierce the soft flesh of his bottom lip and quickly ceased his nervous chewing, waiting as patiently as he could for Gladio to speak, to break the sudden silence that blanketed the room.

“Just to be clear,” Gladio’s voice was rough with tenderness. “Are you saying that you’re not interested in exploring this further, which is okay by the way, or are you saying that you are, just with certain restrictions on what you’re into and how far you’ll go?”

Ignis’s breath hitched, fingers curled into fists now upon his slender thighs. It took him a moment to fully process what Gladio and just said and its implications, and then a few more moments to find his voice again. “The latter, if that’s even, if that’s even allowed. “

“Gods, of course it is, Specky.” Relief shot through the Shield’s features, and the larger man angled himself on the sectional to meet Ignis’s eyes more directly. “Everyone does this their own way. Some people don’t do much more than regular old sex with a bit of bossiness thrown in for flavour. Some people don’t have sex at all and do shit that’d curl your hair.” Gladio frowned lightly. “There was a section in one of those books about hard and soft limits, yeah?”

Ignis dipped his head in a nod, not trusting his voice after the mention of “shit that’d curl his hair”.

“Well there ya go. You can spell out anything you absolutely don’t want to it, everything you totally want to try, and maybe a few things you’re not sure about.”

Ignis drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming himself so that he could speak without sounding as desperately hopeful and frightened as he was.  “Is it not a problem if the list of limits far outweighs the list of permitted activities?”

Gladio rolled his massive shoulders in a shrug. “Not really. As long as the person that you’re with is okay with it, and lots of people would be as long as there were a few things you’re willing to do.”

The Advisor relaxed, some of the tension uncoiling from where it had been wound about his gut. He leaned back into the comfort of the leather couch, eyes closing as he basked in the relief. He felt the couch shift and dip down beside him as Gladio shifted his impressive bulk closer to him, close enough for Ignis to feel the man’s soothing warmth, breathe in the scent of his soap – he must have just showered before Ignis arrived.

“You know,” Gladio continued when he saw that Ignis was relaxing, “I have loads of stuff I won’t do, even when lotsa people ask me to. It’s cool.”

Ignis edged his eyes open, peering at Gladio curiously from behind his specs. “Is it okay if I ask… ?” He trailed off, uncertain if he was allowed to ask, if he was in danger of crossing a line.

“Damn, Specky. Of course. I don’t expect you to be the only one baring your innermost desires and shit here.” He chuckled softly, bumping Ignis good-naturedly with an elbow.

“So what do people keep wanting you to do?” He winced at how softly he’d spoken, his usual persona of stoicism and confidence utterly failed him.

“Knife play.” Gladio shrugged. “I get why people ask. I’d probably be good at it. But I just can’t, y’know? Not with the way Dad brought me up to respect a weapon, to see it as a tool and not a toy. Just thinking about using a sword or a knife like that, makes me feel like I’m six years old again and about to get an ass whooping.”

Ignis chuckled softly. “That makes sense. Anything else you won’t do?”

“Yup. All sortsa stuff. Like, okay I’m trying to spare your delicate sensibilities here, Specky, but I won’t do anything that smells bad.” At Ignis’s confused look he groaned and continued. “Bodily fluids and waste.”

“Oh.” Ignis couldn’t think of anything more eloquent, a rare thing indeed.

“I’m also not really into hurting people really badly. Just enough to get the endorphins goin’ or whatever, but nothing too extreme, nothing that would leave permanent marks, or break bones.”

“Doesn’t that rather rule out quite a number of activities?”

“Yeah, but there’s a whole world of possibilities out there, man. I still get by.” He grinned and his voice softened to a more subdued, serious pitch. “You’ll get by just fine, too.”

“I appreciate the confidence.” He winced at how cold that sounded, his usual sarcasm had worked its way through the emotional tangles Ignis was in. Clearing his throat he clarified. “I didn’t mean for that to come out the way that it did. I really do mean it, I’m grateful for and relieved by your confidence.”

Gladio cast him a sideways glance and flashed a sly, knowing grin. “Don’t worry, Specky. I’ve got you figured out. Or I’m getting there, anyway.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, each pausing to take a drink. Ignis was silently grateful for the bottle of water that he hadn’t asked for.

At length Gladio spoke again, one of his large hands laid warm and gentle atop Ignis’s shoulder. “Do you feel up for sharing what stuff you think you’d like? You don’t have to.”

“It’s fine.” How else were they going to find out if they were compatible? Ignis desperately hoped they were. He knew that Gladio was willing to help him find someone to explore this with, but he couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. It would be Gladio, or it would be nothing.

The Advisor took another drink of water and continued. “As I believe we have established, the D/s dynamic is intriguing. I am willing to give control over in the hopes of taking that mental vacation you mentioned the other evening.” He needed to take a deep breath before confessing his next point. “I am woefully inexperienced, but still a perfectly healthy young man. I’m certain that standard sexual acts would be fine, such as anal or oral.” He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, more from the admission of inexperience than anything else.

“That makes sense. Honestly conventional sex is frigging great when you’re in that mindset. Anything else?”

Ignis hummed softly, gathering his thoughts, unable to think of a way to approach these next subjects delicately, so he went for bluntness. “Light bondage and sensory deprivation, though I am unsure how much I could handle at once. Impact play, though again I do not know how much.”

Gladio nodded, and listened intently as Ignis spoke. He interjected occasionally to clarify the odd point, sometimes bringing up kinks that the books had omitted. As Ignis grew seemingly more comfortable speaking about these things, Gladio began opening up more himself, letting Ignis know when he shared an interest, agreeing vehemently when Ignis balked at the mention of certain forms of torture play. After some time they had gone through a laundry list of kinks, and both of their drinks. Gladio pushed himself off of the couch to fetch two more bottles from the kitchen. When he rejoined Ignis, he turned to face the younger man, drawing his legs up to sit cross-legged again, in what Ignis recognized as the posture Gladio used when he wanted to appear disarming and non-threatening.

“So, what do you think now?”

Ignis quirked a smile. “I think you have done a most admirable job of assuaging my fears and reservations.”

“Good, you’re reserved enough for the both of us.” The Shield chuckled, eyes crinkling up warmly. “So, do you want to try this out?”

Ignis nodded slowly. “Yes. I believe that I do.”

Victory flashed behind Gladio’s eyes, but with heroic effort kept his celebrations contained. “Okay. So my previous offer stands. I would be happy to work with you, since we seem compatible, and are both fine as fuck.” The Shield puffed his chest out, as if Ignis needed to be reminded that the other man was a godsdamn Adonis. “But I also might know some people who would be good for you, if you prefer that.”

It took every shred of Ignis’s willpower to not cut Gladio off, he waited patiently while the other so sweetly and naively offered to find someone else to dominate Ignis.

“I would be honoured if you took me under your wing, Gladio. If you’ll have me.” A weak smile formed, which Ignis swiftly moved to conceal by taking a long drink of water.

Gladio, to his infinite credit, pumped his fists in the air victoriously, but did manage to refrain from jumping up and down in celebration. His golden eyes were bright with feverish joy that Ignis found utterly endearing and infectious.  When the Shield finally spoke again, his voice had dipped down an octave lower, sending jolts of excitement straight to Ignis’s core. “Consider yourself mine, then.”

Mine. Gladio had said mine.

Ignis shivered, giddy with the reality of what he was agreeing to.

Gladio moved to embrace Ignis, his big arms wrapping easily around the smaller man, encircling him in a comfortable warmth. Ignis’s arms were pinned to his sides, unable to return the gesture, and he contented himself with pressing his cheek into Gladio’s broad chest, breathing in his scent and feeling his heartbeat.

“Thank you,” the Shield’s voice was muffled slightly, he seemed to be nuzzling into Ignis’s hair. This made Ignis smile wider. “I’ll look after you, Specky. I’ve got you.”

All too soon for Ignis’s liking the elder broke the embrace, and donned an unusually serious expression. “Before I go getting ahead of myself here, we’ll need to establish some ground rules, and the sooner the better, ok?”

“Mmm, okay.” Ignis was still buzzing from the aftereffects of Gladio’s embrace, and he reached for his bottle of water, the cold drink refreshing him, guiding him back to reality again.

Gladio took a deep breath and pressed on. Ignis had the distinct impression that Gladio had prepared this quasi-speech in the optimistic hope that Ignis would be receptive to the idea of entering this new chapter of their relationship.

“I think that we should agree to a few ground rules. I’m not fond of it, but I will definitely punish the hell out of you if you break these ones. Number one, this absolutely cannot effect our duties to Noct or the Crown. They come first no matter what, even if it’s something that seems small or insignificant.” He met Ignis’s eyes, a hard edge in his usually warm gaze. Ignis nodded in agreement. “Number two, you need to be honest with me, and vice-versa. I can’t help you if I have bad info. Number three kinda goes with number two, but we’ll work out a safe word and safe signal. Fucking use them if you need to. I will never be upset if you do, but I’ll be pissed as hell if anything happens to you.”

Ignis swallowed hard and nodded. “Agreed.”

“Good.” Gladio leaned back into the couch, casting a speculative gaze over Ignis. “These are less important per se, but I think they’ll really help you with your mental process or whatever. You don’t have to agree to these ones if you’re really opposed.” Ignis nodded, head canting to one side, curious as to what the other man thought they should establish as the groundwork for their relationship. “When we’re alone together, behind locked doors, you know, private and no risk of being walked in on? I think the furniture should be off-limits for you without permission.” Gladio held up a finger to stave off the inevitable protests and questions. “Bathroom and kitchen facilities not included. Those are more tools than anything. I’m talking tables, chairs, beds, stuff like that. “ Ignis nodded, not wanting to interrupt Gladio’s flow of speech. “Also if you’re going to address me, I think Sir would be most appropriate.”

“Yes Sir?” Ignis tried the words out, tasting them on his tongue, savouring the little thrill of excitement that sparked somewhere in his groin.

Gladio flashed a huge grin. “Fuck you make that sound good, Specky.” The Shield cleared his throat. “Okay and finally, this is pretty standard, but you’re not allowed to cum without permission. “

Ignis nodded again, then remembered himself. “Yes Sir.” He furrowed his brow, realizing that though he’s making an effort to follow the rule regarding address, he was currently perched on Gladio’s couch. “Uh, should I….?” He gestured rather vaguely at the floor. Gladio just laughed and shook his head. “Nah, you’re okay tonight.” The elder moved to rest a hand on Ignis’s shoulder as if to underline the fact that he wanted him beside him then.

“New rules can and likely will be added as needed, but I think that will do to get you started. I don’t want to put too much on you too soon.”

“Thank you,” Ignis breathed, infusing the words with more feeling than he thought possible, hoping that the other man knew that he was being thanked for everything, not just his last words. Gladio gave his shoulder a knowing pat.

“Anytime. And speaking of, it’s getting late. Rule number one, we’d best get ourselves to bed, you probably have an early day as usual tomorrow.”

*****

The following evening Ignis was once again in Noct’s kitchen, this time while the Prince and his friend Prompto played a new videogame in the living room.  It was Friday night and with no school the following day the pair were settled in for a marathon session.

Ignis gave up on cooking them supper when he became aware of the nervous trembles in his fingers, rendering him incapable of safely chopping vegetables. He had made plans to meet with Gladio again that evening, this time in Ignis’s rooms, and the nervous anticipation was almost more than he could bear. Clearing his throat he turned towards the living room.

“Would you lads like to order in pizza, as a bit of a weekend treat?”

Both boys cheered enthusiastically, and Ignis was certain he heard Noctis murmuring “Definitely alien.”

*****

Before he knew it, Ignis was home.  He had fired off a quick text to Gladio to let him know he was back from Noct’s, and then set about to quickly tidy his already pristine quarters.

Within minutes Gladio knocked on the door and waited to be let in. “Good evening, Gladio,” Ignis nodded politely as he stepped back to admit the Shield. One never knew who might be around the nearest corner, and Ignis was determined to maintain an air of propriety, at least publically.

Gladio flashed a grin and stepped inside, moving to shut the door behind him, the lock sliding into place with a soft click.

“Hey,” the larger man smiled down at the other, reaching to brush his fingers fondly through sandy brown hair. “Have a good day?”

“I did, thank you, Sir. Did you?”

Gladio growled approvingly at Ignis for remembering the correct form of address, ruffling his hair again. “Yep. Scored a hit against Cor when we sparred. It was epic.”

Ignis’s brow arched, impressed. “Nice.”

“I mean he scored about 20 on me, but still. It’s fucking Cor.” Gladio grinned in a delightfully self-deprecating way as he moved towards Ignis’s couch. Unlike Gladio the Advisor didn’t have a sectional, opting for a couch and an armchair that was well-suited for reading.

Gladio sat in the center of the couch, arms resting casually along the back of the leather cushions. He regarded Ignis from across the room, and although his brown eyes remained warm and intent, his voice dipped down commandingly. “Move this coffee table back a few feet, then come here.” He gestured vaguely to the floor in front of him, which was currently partially obstructed by the aforementioned table.

“Yes Sir,” Ignis felt his pulse quicken as he moved to comply, hastily grasping the edge of the table, pulling it back a few feet so that there was room for him to kneel in front of Gladio as he knew the other wanted.

“Good,” Gladio murmured, favouring the younger man with a smile, a smile that sent waves of relief washing over Ignis. It wasn’t that he had been afraid that he would move the table wrongly, but it was such a relief to have the affirmation that he had done what Gladio wanted.

Ignis beamed as he knelt before the other, fingertips tapping giddily against his knees.

Gladio leaned forward and with surprisingly gentle but firm touches showed Ignis how he liked for him to kneel, with his knees parted a few inches, palms down upon his thighs, back straight.

“Fuck you look good down there.” Gladio reached, running his rough knuckles against the line of Ignis’s jaw, taking obvious pleasure at the way the younger man’s cheeks tinted pink at the touch. “I need to see more of what’s mine, though. Take these off.” He gave the shirt and vest Ignis still wore a little tug. “Oh and your tie.”

 _Oh Gods, this was it_ , Ignis thought. “Y-yes Sir.” He hated the waiver in his voice, but he worked to keep his fingers steady as he first unknotted his silk tie, slipping it off and holding it up for Gladio to take. The larger man took it, seeming to take pains to avoid brushing their fingers together.

“Good. Continue.”

Button by agonizing button Ignis undid his vest and dress shirt, letting the panels of cloth draw back, revealing the smooth expanse of ivory flesh beneath.  He slid the material slowly down his back and arms until he was knelt, topless and blushed before Gladio. Tentatively he looked up, surveying Gladio’s reaction through the veil of his tawny lashes.

The Shield’s eyes were wide, prominent brows lifted.

Ignis felt something in his heart twinge painfully. He had been afraid of this.

Gladio was repulsed or perhaps disappointed by what he saw, Ignis was convinced of it.

Immediately Ignis tucked his chin down, staring fixedly at his own hands which were clenched atop his thighs with the effort it took for him to not bolt from the scene, or move his arms from their correct position to cover his slender, pale, utterly unremarkable chest.

“What’s wrong?” Gladio’s voice was above him, sharp and insistent.

“I’m sorry.” Somehow he managed to duck his head even lower. He suddenly recoiled as a large hand rapped him at the side of his head.

“I asked you what’s wrong, not for an apology.” Thick fingers brushed gently against Ignis’s temple, soothing the faint stinging.

Ignis bit back another apology and began speaking, still unable to meet Gladio’s eyes. He wished that he had time to compose his thoughts but knew he wasn’t going to be afforded that luxury. “Yes Sir. I’m feeling physically inadequate, compared to yourself, and compared to the other Crownsguard. I know that my physique isn’t exactly impressive and you’re probably used to so much …. better.” The last word tasted bitter on his tongue.

“For a genius you can be a real idiot, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” An apology seemed more appropriate this time.

He felt warm hands atop his shoulders, fingers tracing the faint lines of Ignis’s muscles. “I’m in charge of your training. I’m well aware of your physique, even if you do change at record speed in the locker room.” A chuckle. “Look at me.”

It took a moment, Ignis knew he would have to learn to comply more swiftly with Gladio’s demands, and was grateful for the bit of slack he was probably being given. Eventually he did lift his subdued teal gaze to meet Gladio’s warm amber, and saw that Gladio was smiling at him. Smiling as his big hands trailed down Ignis’s shoulders, fingertips dancing across the smooth expanse of his chest, offering the lightest caress to dusky nipples on their way across Ignis’s ribs and abdomen, exploring and learning the younger man’s body by touch.

“You’re fucking exquisite, you know that? Fuck, Specky. You don’t even know.”

Gladio’s fingers curled, so that his nails now raked against Ignis’s skin. The touches really didn’t hurt, but faint white and pink scratches marked the taut plains of his chest in their wake. Ignis let out a shuddering breath as relief and pleasure rushed through him.

“You show every little mark, every change in temperature.” Gladio lifted a hand to trace Ignis’s cheek, where he could feel the heat of a blush staining pale skin.  “You’re a beautiful fucking canvas that I’ve waited a long time to play with.”

Ignis was at a loss for words, only managing to breathe out a soft “Sir.” He tipped his head lightly into Gladio’s touch, the other man still having his hand at Ignis’s cheek. Somewhere in the far recesses of his mind he was aware that he was nuzzling into Gladio’s palm in a most undignified manner. He was going to have to work at shutting that nagging voice up.

“You still good?” Gladio’s voice rumbled gently down to him, and Ignis nodded.

“Yes, please Sir.”

“Mmkay.” Gladio released his hold on Ignis and leaned back into the couch again, patting the cushion beside him. “Come up here, on your hands and knees, over my lap.”

Tongue sneaking out to dampen his suddenly dry lips, Ignis managed another weak “Yes Sir.” His limbs were somewhat uncooperative, though, resisting the command to uncurl. He managed with less grace than he would have liked to climb up onto the couch beside Gladio, turning to face the elder. He planted his knees on one side of the Shield as instructed, and arched himself over his lap, pressing his hands into the cushions on Gladio’s other side. Gladio’s hands were gentle but firm as he guided Ignis into the exact position that he wanted, with his knees digging into Gladio’s thighs, torso parallel with his lap.

“Don’t forget your safe word. Cup Noodles, ok?” Gladio waited for Ignis to acknowledge him before he grunted with pleasure, and moved his thick but nimble fingers to Ignis’s belt buckle, managing to undo the belt and the button of his trousers from his slightly awkward position.

Ignis’s lips parted with a startled gasp, his body tensing automatically.

“Ssshh.” Gladio soothed gently, moving his fingers to Ignis’s back, gently tracing lines up and down his spine. “It’s okay, I’m not going far. But tell me if it’s too much, little pet.”

A pleased sigh fell from Ignis at the soothing touch, and at the diminutive term of endearment.  Yes, he wanted to be Gladio’s little pet, Astrals help him. There was a rightness to it that overpowered and obliterated his reservations. Gladio wouldn’t hurt his cherished pet. His Ignis. His cherished Ignis.  Giddy with delight at this revelation, he barely registered Gladio’s movements, but the elder had trailed his fingers back down to Ignis’s pants, gently curling his fingers beneath the waistband of both his trousers and underwear, easing the layers down, gently unwrapping the soft curve of his buttocks like it was a gift.  With a startled gasp he realized that his ass was suddenly exposed, though his groin was still covered.

“Fucking gorgeous.” Gladio whispered against the shell of Ignis’s ear as the younger man remained on all fours across his lap.

The sensation of warm breath against his ear sent Ignis trembling, and Gladio moaned, actually moaned out loud. “Fuck you’re responsive. You have no fucking clue what you even are.” A warm, rough palm was planted against the swell of Ignis’s ass, not moving, just a warm presence that Ignis soon acclimated himself with.

“Here we go.” Gladio pressed a light kiss to the shoulder he could reach and then suddenly drew his palm back from Ignis’s suddenly wanting flesh, connecting again in a hard smack.

“Oh!” Ignis cried out, startled by the sharp stinging sensation. His entire body rocked forward, but he managed to catch himself, absorbing the blow before the force of it toppled him. He knew that Gladio was being gentle, but still, Ignis had never in his life been spanked, not even as a child, and he found the sensation wonderful but strange.

Gladio didn’t leave the Advisor time to sort through his thoughts, which was probably a great mercy. He flicked his wrist back to land another stinging blow to Ignis’s other cheek, then paused to rub his palm tenderly across the warmed flesh, soothing the gentle ache that was building.

Gladio soon fell into an easy rhythm, bringing the flat of his palm against Ignis’s tender flesh over and over. Ignis felt his ass grow hot, and he knew that his pale skin was turning rosy and pink under Gladio’s ministrations. After every few strokes, not quite regularly enough for Ignis to predict his actions, the bigger man would stop to cup an ass cheek, rubbing it tenderly, gently squeezing the abused flesh.

“Such a good little pet, so fucking good.” Gladio murmured as his hands came at him again, the sound of skin connecting with skin echoing in the otherwise quiet room.

Gladio continued the spanking, carefully lavishing equal attention to each cheek, interrupting the rhythmic blows to occasionally rub his palm across fevered flesh. At one point the Shield traced his fingernails over the curve of his ass and Ignis couldn’t contain his moan at the new sensation. He writhed, feeling as if Gladio had sent an electric current through his skin.

“What’s that, little pet?” Gladio’s voice was coarse and rough with obvious desire. He reared back for another sharp smack across Ignis’s ass, then settled his fingertips across rosy mounds, lightly caressing, his fingers light as feathers.

“Mm, Sir, th-thank you!” Ignis really didn’t know what to say, and blurted out whatever came easily. Gladio seemed pleased, however, leaning in to press an open-mouthed kiss to Ignis’s shoulder.

Ignis was beginning to tremble, sweat beading across his brow, causing his glasses to slip threateningly down his nose. Gladio was starting to ease back a bit, palm connecting with aching flesh less frequently in favour of caressing him with fingertips and nails. His entire body felt like it was on fire, even though he knew Gladio wasn’t touching him anywhere else. Each slap of flesh on flesh, each caress sent ripples of giddy sensation through Ignis, they washed over him like the tide, rocking his body with the force of the sensation.

His arms and knees began to ache with the strain of holding himself up, absorbing Gladio's blows. It was a good pain, he realized, it meant that he was trying, exerting physical effort to obey. Each smack of an open palm upon his flesh signaled a little victory to Ignis. He could take whatever Gladio was pleased to dish out, no, he wanted to.  He cried out with pain with each hard slap, and whined in luxurious pleasure at each caress. The conflicting actions creating a delicious combination of sensations that Ignis savored like a fine wine.

Eventually one firm smack sent Ignis toppling forward, collapsing across Gladio’s lap.  Strong arms were immediately draped around his angular waist, keeping him from falling to the floor. The smaller man groaned into the unsympathetic couch cushions as Gladio’s hand came down across his other ass cheek, issuing a firm, matching blow.

“Oh Gods.” Ignis moaned, writhing across Gladio’s lap with a shamelessness that would have shocked him, had he sufficient mental faculties at that time.  Gladio simply chuckled from somewhere above him, and moved his fingertips soothingly over Ignis’s buttocks, over the dip of his lower back and up his spine. Petting him, soothing him. Large hands felt warm and comfortable as they traversed the plains of Ignis’s back and ass, lingering featherlight over his reddened skin. He could feel the heated glow even if he couldn’t see it.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” Ignis mumbled weakly.

“What for, little pet?” Gladio seemed to be as fond of the new nickname as Ignis. Good.

“Fell down…”

Gladio chuckled and squeezed Ignis’s abused little ass again. “Oh yeah? Do I seem disappointed? Do I feel disappointed?” Gladio bucked his hips beneath him, despite Ignis’s weight draped across his lap.

“Wha- Oh!” Ignis gasped, eyes widened as he realized that the buldge of Gladio’s erection was digging into him, the feeling muffled slightly beneath the Shield’s pants, as Gladio was still fully clothed of course.

“You were amazing.” Gladio’s voice was a lush purr as he traced little shapes through Ignis’s pinked skin. “You did exactly right, little pet. Now have a rest.”

Part of Ignis wanted to argue, wanted to insist that they continue until Gladio had his release, but he had gone rather boneless and it was nothing to Gladio to bundle Ignis up and shift him so that he was curled up on the couch next to him freeing Gladio’s lap.

“Just a sec…” the Shield rumbled, reaching into the pockets of his jeans for a moment. Finding what he wanted, he gently coaxed Ignis to lie back down across his lap again.  Ignis was confused when he heard the distinct sound of a bottle being opened, something squirting out of it. He tensed, fingers curling into the leather of the couch.

“Calm down, we’re not ready for that yet.” Gladio’s laughter was warm and rich as it fell to Ignis’s ears, and a moment later he understood that the other man was just applying some lotion to his red flesh, a cooling sensation that stung, but left wonderful cooling numbness in its wake. “I know you spend a lot of time sitting on this pretty ass, I need to look after it properly.”

“Yes Sir, thank you.” Ignis’s voice was weak, but warm with contentment. His limbs felt tired and heavy, and he really hoped that Gladio didn’t ask him to move soon. He could lie there indefinitely, with Gladio’s bulk a comforting presence beneath and beside him, his hands soothing and possessive as they ran across Ignis’s skin, soothing his spanked ass, and relaxing the tense muscles of his back.

He didn’t know how long they remained like that, with Gladio sitting on the couch, Ignis draped over his lap, ass bared and glowing with the aftereffects of the spanking. He must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing he knew, he was lying on top of his bed on his stomach, trousers pulled completely off, his briefs pulled back up to shield his sensitive skin in a layer of soft cotton.  The lamp was on, and his alarm clock told him that it was almost 3am. There was no sign of the Shield, and a wave of panic swept through Ignis until he spotted the folded note on his nightstand, right next to his glasses. He fumbled for them, pushing them clumsily into place before greedily snatching up the note.

_“Little pet, I didn’t want to wake you up, you looked so peaceful. Hopefully you sleep straight til the morning, you’ve earned it. You did so well, I couldn’t be prouder or more pleased._

_Don’t worry. If you’re reading this through the night, I’m right outside your door, probably sleeping on the couch. If I’m gone it’s because I had to go to a practice._

_There’s a bottle of water. Drink it ASAP, you’re going to be dehydrated. I left the lotion for you too, if you’re still sore._

_If it’s not currently time for you to get up, get your ass back to bed. – Gladio”_

Ignis grinned, a hand pressed to his mouth to supress his relieved laughter.

Fighting his instincts which were screaming at him to run to the living room, he instead reached for the bottle of water he found on his dresser, draining half of it in one long pull.  He then poked his behind experimentally, and found it was okay. Finally having satisfied Gladio’s orders, he let himself creep into the living room, squinting in the dim light to see Gladio’s hulking form, curled into the couch.  On silent feet Ignis retreated to his bedroom long enough to fetch a blanket and pen his own note. He laid the blanket carefully over Gladio, not wishing to disturb the elder’s slumber, and he placed his own note on the coffee table where Gladio wouldn’t miss it.

_“Sir, I have tended to myself and as instructed, am going back to bed._

_I cannot find sufficient words at this time to express the depth of my appreciation for your attentions._

_I hope the blanket is cozy. I will be up at 5:30, yours to command. – Ignis."_

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sincere apologies for the delay in posting. It has been an unusual week, but I should be back on schedule next week!  
> Thank you all so very much for reading and for partaking in my little dumpster fire party of a fic. I'm really overwhelmed by how kindly this work has been received.

Ignis awoke to the insistent buzzing of his alarm clock, and the tantalizing aroma of freshly-brewed coffee. The first was a regular nuisance, but the second was an uncommon pleasure.

The young Advisor rolled out of bed gingerly, and found that he couldn’t feel any lingering effects of the prior evening’s activities. He was relieved and perhaps just the slightest bit disappointed.  Ignis dithered for a few moments, unsure how to handle his current state of undress. On the one hand he ached to race into the living room to see if Gladio was still there. On the other hand, he was clad in naught but his underpants and doubted that he would make the most appealing sight.  He was in desperate need of a shower, styling, and roughly three more layers of clothing. In the end Ignis decided to split the difference, scrambling into a pair of pyjama bottoms and running his fingers through his bed-mussed hair. Perching his specs on his nose, he slipped into the living area.

“Morning, little pet,” came the welcome rumble of Gladio’s voice when the younger man finally exited his bedroom.  “Did you sleep alright?”

Ignis felt something warm flutter behind his chest at the words, at the friendly, soothing sound of Gladio’s voice first thing in the morning. “I did,” he flashed a faint smile to the bodyguard, which morphed almost immediately into a concerned frown. “Likely better than you did on that couch, it can’t have done your back any favours. Are you okay, Sir?” He had almost forgotten to address Gladio properly, and his heart gave a guilty little twist at the realization.

Gladio chuckled from his place perched atop one of Ignis’s dining stools. “I’m good. Thanks for the blanket. There’s some coffee left if you want a cup.”

“Thank you, Sir. I don’t believe anyone has made me coffee before, outside of a restaurant. Cheers to you.” Smiling genuinely, Ignis moved to fix himself a cup, turning back to the other as he worked. “Can I fix you anything for breakfast?”

“Naw, I’m good. Gonna slam a protein bar and go for a run, I’ll have a proper meal after that. Sucks running on a full belly.”

Ignis nodded in understanding, as if he were in the habit of going on long morning runs himself, which he definitely wasn’t.

“I just wanted to wait ‘til you got up, you know, make sure you’re still okay after last night.” Gladio cast a piercing look Ignis’s way, which the young strategist met with warm assurance.

“Never better, Sir.” He infused just a tad more emphasis on the “Sir” than was strictly required, and allowed himself to flash a satisfied smile, as if the word had been a fine wine that he had just sampled and was relishing its aftertaste.

“Good to hear, little pet. You have a good day, I’ll see you later,” and with a parting brush of his fingers through Ignis’s already messy hair, Gladio made his way out of Ignis’s quarters.

It took Ignis several minutes to remember his cup of coffee, too lost in the remembered bliss of Gladio’s fingers threading through his hair just then, and then the only slightly more distant memory of those fingers caressing his naked ass…

* * *

 

Gladio was true to his word and did in fact see Ignis later. He saw the Advisor several times that day in fact, always in passing, always seemingly by coincidence. A council meeting would let out, and Gladio would be swaggering his way down that same hallway. Ignis had a meeting with Noctis’s diplomatic tutor to discuss an updated curriculum and new reading assignments, and there Gladio was standing outside the study door attempting to blend in with the actual guards who were actually on duty. The Advisor passed the Shield both to and from the afternoon council meetings as well. Each time the pair would lock eyes, warm amber capturing cool teal, and each time Ignis felt the colour rise in his cheeks and he hastened away before his grin could give them both away.

Ignis couldn’t help wondering at the seemingly endless amount of free time that Gladio had, or at least the freedom to adjust his own schedule to accommodate his new hobby of Specky watching.  Ignis for his part had become almost unbearably busy. Concerns over the war were only growing, as the Empire annexed more territory, and forged alliances that were alliances in name only. It seems that most of the world was being given two choices: be conquered by force under the boot heels of Magitek Troopers, or be conquered by diplomacy, bowing and scraping and thanking the damn Nifs for the privilege of relinquishing most of their goods and resources to the Empire.  This new atmosphere of anxiety and fear resulted in nearly twice Ignis’s usual number of meetings on top of his other duties.

* * *

It had been a few days since he’d fallen asleep across Gladio’s lap, ass bared and reddened at the other’s hand. Ignis had found that their shared glances and meaningful looks in passing were woefully insufficient to calm the fires that Gladio had ignited in him. Evidently Gladio felt much the same, as he eventually cornered Ignis on his way to the library to fetch some reference materials to assist Noct with one of his civics assignments.

“Hey, what’s your day looking like, Specs?”

“Hmm. When I finish here I have a few reports to summarize for Noct, and a few dozen reports to read for my own pleasure. Then I pick His Highness up from school, cook, clean, assist with homework, assist with reports, and finish reading the reports that I know I won’t get to beforehand, and then I daresay it will be bedtime.” Ignis pulled back the flap on his messenger bag so that Gladio could see how full to bursting it was with folders and booklets.

Gladio furrowed his brow, nodding. “Bring your stuff to your room, you can work there, right?”

“Yes, I don’t see why not. As long as I’m away in time to pick Noct up.”

Gladio flashed a grin. “Yeah no problem. C’mon.” The elder lead the way into the library, abandoning his companion almost immediately in favour of the young adult fiction section, while Ignis wandered over to the Lucian history and anthropology section.

The two young men reunited within ten minutes, each clutching a stack of books (though Ignis’s was significantly taller and heavier), and they made their way through the check-out desk together. As they made to leave the library they passed a group of Citadel staff, loitering near the periodicals, and chatting in soft, library-appropriate tones. They hushed their chatter as the two drew near, but not soon enough to stop stray phrases from reaching the Shield and Advisor.

“Damn, Mr. Cold-as-Ice has a friend?”

“Probably research for his home planet. Poor Gladiolus.”

“Shh, Frosty’s gonna hear, dude.”

“I’m not afraid of Priggy Iggy.”

Ignis could feel Gladio tensing beside him, the other man obviously overhearing the chatter as well, though perhaps only once his own name had been dropped.

Ignis managed to heave his stack of books into one hand, balancing the stack rather precariously, but it was worth the risk to be able to free up a hand which he promptly laid in a soothing touch upon the larger man’s arm. “Please, don’t …” he implored, continuing out of the library with his bespectacled gaze firmly ahead of himself.  He begrudgingly removed his hand from the Shield’s firm bicep so that he could properly hold onto his wobbly stack of books again.

Gladio grunted a wordless reply, but continued in silence at Ignis’s side, though the younger man could feel the displeasure rolling off of his partner in waves. Once they were a reasonably safe distance away, Gladio finally spoke, and it was obvious that he was making a real effort to keep his tone neutral and his voice soft. “Doesn’t that kind of shit bother you? I can go back there and break some faces.” He growled.

“As charming as it is that you wish to defend my pride and honor, I would prefer that you not brawl in the library. I would really hate for you be banned.” Ignis quirked a small smile, attempting to reassure the other. “Truly, I’m accustomed to it, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Does that happen often?”

Gladio’s voice sounded tight, as if he were struggling to get the words past a constricting throat.

Ignis huffed a sigh. “Yes, but it’s been going on for as long as I can remember, which is why I’m so accustomed to it that I really do hardly notice nor mind. I’ve heard it all, sometimes to my face and sometimes not.” He shrugged. “Some of the jests about how cold I am are rather ironic, given the etymology of my name.”

They continued towards Ignis’s quarters in silence for a few moments before Gladio spoke up again.

“How do you not let it bother you? If it were me, well, the infirmary would be seeing a sharp fucking increase in broken jaws is all I’m gonna say.”

Ignis laughed, knowing that the other was jesting for his benefit, he wouldn’t break someone’s face over an idle insult. At worst the Shield might accidentally on purpose trip someone in the hall.

“When I said that it has been going on for as long as I can remember, I meant it. Since I was a small child. The other children teased me for being too intelligent and too far advanced in my schooling for my age. I seem to recall being teased for being too well-behaved as well, I would never break a rule or put a toe out of line.”

“Sounds like our Specky.”

“Mhm. And it did bother me, I didn’t know any better at first.” Ignis shrugged, and his expression dissolved into an unusually tender expression as he dipped into the warm pool of his memories. “I remember going to my mother at some point, I think I was six, and just horribly upset because some of the neighborhood children were teasing me for studying algebra on the weekend instead of playing like a regular kid.” Ignis paused for a few moments as a group of Crownsguard passed them.  “Anyway, I told her what was bothering me, and she ever so sagely pointed out that it was silly to be teased for having too much of a good quality, be it intelligence, manners, obedience, kindness, et cetera. Looking back of course I can see some gaping holes in her logic, but at the time I took her words to heart. I would never lessen who and what I am in order to appease others, so if I suffer the occasional barb about being cold, or a prig, or if half of the Citadel is wagering on whether I am a robot or an alien, so be it. I wouldn’t change a thing, it would be a dereliction of my duty in fact to conduct myself in any other manner. Noctis deserves the best that I have to offer.”

Ignis felt his cheeks warming. He had spoken non-stop through most of their walk from the library to his own rooms. He was unaccustomed to being so chatty. “Apologies, I did not mean to talk your ear off.”

“Hey, I asked, and you’re supposed to be honest with me”

“Indeed. Well, apologies at least for my honesty taking such a verbose form.”

They reached Ignis’s door and the smaller man shifted his books to one hand again, freeing up a hand so that he could slip his keycard out of his pocket, swiping it across the little sensor which promptly chirped and turned green, signalling that the door was unlocked. Ignis pushed the door inwards and graciously nodded for Gladio to enter.

Gladio reached over, scooping the armload of books from Ignis’s grasp with one hand, moving to deposit them in a slightly crooked stack on the coffee table.

“I thought we could both catch up on our reading together,” the larger man grinned, holding his own books up as if entering them into evidence. Ignis recognized the first as being the third part in a very popular fantasy trilogy that Prompto had mentioned once.

“Somehow I suspect that your reading material will be much more entertaining than mine,” Ignis intoned dryly, gaze flickering to his bag of reports.

“I have no idea what that pile of utter boredom in your bag is, but I’m gonna go out on a limb here and agree with you, Specky.” The Shield chuckled as he sauntered over to Ignis’s reading chair, making himself comfortable with his books resting on his lap.

Ignis was struck by how ridiculously handsome the other man was. Wearing dark jeans and one of his gray Crownsguard tanks, his sculpted physique was on full, glorious display. When Gladio smiled at him a dimple carved itself into his chiseled jaw, and Ignis found himself longing to press his lips to that jaw in grateful worship, longed to feel the coarse touch of Gladio’s facial scruff against his own smooth cheek.  Suddenly realizing that he had been standing there, staring vapidly at the larger man, he shook his head smartly, offering the other a sheepish smile. “Can I get you anything from the kitchen, Sir?” He dipped his head politely, respectfully, and hoped that the flush of embarrassment in his cheeks wasn’t too terribly pronounced.

Judging by the way Gladio chuckled at him, he was probably glowing like a stoplight.

“Some water, little pet.  Also bring that stack of boring shit with you.”

“Yes, Sir” Ignis felt his stomach do a little flip, nervousness and desire waging war in him. He simultaneously ached for Gladio’s approval, but feared disappointing the other man somehow.

 In a few moments Ignis found himself kneeling at Gladio’s feet, basking in the warm radiance the other seemed to exude. The stack of paperwork lay to one side as Ignis held a bottle of water out, the cap loosened.

“Good pet,” Gladio tousled Ignis’s sandy hair before taking the offered bottle, drinking deeply before setting it on a nearby side table.

“Thank you, Sir.” Ignis’s eyes lazed half-shut behind the glint of his spectacles, still feeling the ghost of the other man’s fingers against his scalp. His stomach flipped again, this time with delight at having earned the other’s praise.

Gladio leaned back, folding himself comfortably into the leather cushions, casting a speculative gaze down at Ignis. The Advisor realized that he was holding his breath in anticipation, and forced himself to continue breathing.

“If you’re going to be working on Council business we may as well do double duty and have you work on your physical training. Your endurance still leaves much to be desired. On your hands and knees, facing one side.”

A tremor of shame worked its way through Ignis’s chest to settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach.  “Yes Sir,” came his quiet response, sinewy limbs moving almost immediately to comply.  He tried to keep the taut lines of his back straight, parallel to the floor, thinking that would be the most aesthetically pleasing position, and the Shield could move him if this wasn’t correct. Fortunately this seemed to be exactly what the other had in mind, as a pleased rumble passed the Shield’s lips. Ignis began to idly wonder what the other man was planning when his thoughts were interrupted by the rustle of papers as Gladio moved to shift the stack of reports into a pile in front of Ignis’s supine form.

“There you go, little pet. Get to work.”

“Yes Sir. Thank you.” Ignis breathed, barely having resisted the urge to look up at the other man. Obediently he reached with one hand to flip open the first of several positively riveting documents from the agricultural council about irrigation and soil rotation.

Ignis had read perhaps three sentences before his concentration was shattered by a sudden weight pressing into the small of his back. He tried and failed to see what was happening, but without breaking his position he couldn’t. Instead he closed his eyes and tuned out the paperwork, concentrating instead upon the sensation. It took him a few moments but he eventually realized that Gladio had his feet propped up on his back, ankles crossed from the feel of things.

The Advisor’s eyes snapped open again as furious colour rushed into his face, and he realized that he’d stopped breathing. Taking in as sharp gasp of air, he was rewarded for his trouble by an amused chuckle from somewhere above him.

Six, he thought, this is what I’ve come to. Being used as an ottoman for this musclebound behemoth.  He sighed. At least the other man had the manners to remove his boots first. His suit jacket would likely survive the ordeal unscathed.

Ignis did his best to concentrate on his work, but it was rather difficult. The Advisor was achingly aware of the other man’s presence, unable to see him from this lowly vantage point but able to feel him. He longed to drink the sight of him in, he imagined that Gladio looked like the leader of a conquering army poised above Ignis as he was. Ignis ached to reach out to touch the other, to feel something more personal and—dare he—more intimate than the feeling of Gladio’s heels nestled into his back.

The time passed slowly and relatively pleasantly, if Ignis was honest with himself. It had taken a bit of adjusting to, but he found that he was perfectly able to read his reports from this position, it wasn’t difficult to turn the pages, he could balance easily upon two knees and one hand. Gladio’s weight wasn’t oppressive, the Shield had clearly let most of his considerable weight rest into the chair rather than abuse Ignis with it. He would occasionally shift position, sometimes uncrossing and re-crossing his ankles. At one point Ignis imagined that the other had slumped down into the chair and bent his knees, as his feet were suddenly flat upon the plains of Ignis’s back.

A comfortable silence blanketed the two men, broken only by the soft rustling of paper as one or the other turned a page, and the occasional swish as Gladio took a drink.

Ignis had to admit, it really wasn’t too bad. He was a bit sad that he had some rare time to languish in the other’s company but was unable to feast his eyes on him, but he was also happy to be of some use to the other, and delighted to just be in the other man’s presence when really with his current schedule he hadn’t thought it possible. He would happily reside at the other man’s feet if the alternative was to be starved of his company after only recently being allowed to feast upon it.

At length Ignis felt the elder slide his feet off of his makeshift footstool. Ignis hesitated, unsure if he was supposed to move yet or not. Gladio spared him the agony of choice by sliding a warm hand comfortingly through Ignis’s hair and up and down the soft curve of his spine. “Time to get dressed and get Noct,” the Shield murmured softly.

“Yes, Sir.” Ignis arched his back, stretching muscles that had begun to cramp and ache at last. Uncurling, he smoothed his hands over his pant legs and jacket, smoothing the creases away as best as he could, and brushing off bits of imagined dust. He then stooped to retrieve his stack of reports, tucking a few choice ones into his bag, along with the books for Noct. Gladio watched him with an appreciative gaze, an amused half-smile on his lips.

“Very good, little pet.”

The pair moved to exit Ignis’s quarters, but suddenly the Shield threw a burly arm across Ignis’s path. Ignis glanced up questioningly, lips parting with a question that he didn’t have a chance to ask. Gladio cupped a rough hand against the angular curve of Ignis’s cheek, thumb tracing the arch of his cheekbone. He leaned down, brushing warm lips across Ignis’s brow, against his temple, then down the suddenly blushed cheek.

“You’re fucking exceptional.” Gladio murmured, his breath hot, tickling against Ignis’s jaw. The Advisor was spared the torment of trying to speak at that moment by Gladio pressing his lips against his own, gently at first, and then insistently, hungrily, leaving Ignis’s lips feverish with heat and deliciously swollen. The kiss couldn’t have lasted for more than a few seconds, Gladio pulling away with a disgruntled moan.

“Go on before I pin you to a wall and we both break rule number one.”

Ignis bowed awkwardly and fled.

* * *

The rest of the week passed in much the same manner, with Ignis being too buried under mountains of paperwork to have anything resembling free time. He was able to see Gladio during the lone training session that he had scheduled in lieu of lunch one day, and the Shield continued to conveniently prowl the halls as Ignis dashed from appointment to appointment, but their interactions were otherwise limited to texts, which usually consisted of Gladio checking up on Ignis, verifying that the other was remembering to eat and sleep occasionally.

Mercifully the week did eventually end, and while Ignis still had Noctis to tend to as well as a stack of paperwork to go through before Monday, he had enough breathing room to arrange to meet with Gladio again. Part of him bore the irrational fear that if he didn’t find more time for the Shield that the other man would grow bored of his new little hobby and abandon Ignis in favour of more easily-accessible partners, not to mention more attractive, fit, and popular partners.

Ignis knocked on Gladio’s door shortly after 9pm, and was greeted by Gladio’s big toothy grin and a muscular arm bodily dragging him over the threshold. Ignis chuckled good-naturedly at the enthusiastic manhandling, which certainly did a great deal to relieve some of his anxiety about whether Gladio was still interested. Yes he was very much interested, if the pair of strong arms wrapping around him in a bear hug were any indication.

Gladio nuzzled the top of Ignis’s head affectionately before releasing him, beckoning him to follow him towards the couch. The Shield moved to perch himself on the edge of the sectional, Ignis trailing behind. Gladio grinned wolfishly and pointed to the floor in front of him.

Ignis dropped to his knees hard enough that he felt a spike of pain racing through his joints. His features contorted into a brief wince that he hoped the other wouldn’t notice.

Gladio chuckled. Of course he’d noticed.

“Eager, are we?” His voice was a low rumble shaking with supressed laughter.

“Yes Sir.” Ignis ducked his head and grinned down at his lap.

“Let me get a look at you.” Ignis felt rather than saw as the elder gave one of his sleeves a little tug, signalling for him to strip to the waist again.

Wordlessly Ignis complied, his fingers trembling only slightly as they made quick work of his jacket and the buttons of his dress shirt.  When he moved to unknot his tie Gladio gently batted his hands away, removing the strip of dark purple silk himself, tucking it rather conspicuously into the pocket of his black jeans.

Ignis shrugged his way out of his jacket and shirt, pushing them into the neatest pile that he could manage, leaving himself bare from the waist up.

Gladio hummed approvingly as Ignis shifted himself back into position, kneeling with his knees slightly apart, shoulders back. The Shield leaned forward and brushed the fingertips of both hands across Ignis’s shoulders, trailing down across the slight curve of his pecs, along his ribs and over the delicate definition of his abs. Ignis felt his breathing hitch, and was certain that Gladio could feel the quaking in his stomach, thrilling at the touch.

Gladio plucked Ignis’s glasses off, and laid them carefully on an end table, before his fingers moved to trace across the Advisor’s features, the touch dancing featherlight from Ignis’s temples, over the sculpted curve of his cheeks and jaw, before lightly tracing his lips. Ignis pressed his lips ever so gently to Gladio’s fingers, nuzzling into them as they lingered over his mouth. Gladio rumbled his approval, pressing the pad of his thumb against Ignis’s soft lips, encouraging his little pet to demonstrate his affection.

Ignis, for his part, could have remained like this all evening. Happily kneeling at the other man’s feet, stripped to the waist, the larger man free to caress and pet him, Ignis offering gentle, worshipful nuzzles when Gladio’s hands came into range of his lips.

Gladio, naturally, had other plans.

“Cross your wrists in front of you, little pet.”

“Yes Sir,” Ignis breathed softly, hastily moving to comply, his slim wrists pressing together.

Gladio flashed Ignis a sly grin as he reached down, capturing Ignis’s offered wrists, and smoothly wrapping Ignis’s tie around them. He gave the strip of purple silk a little tug before checking with Ignis. “Not too tight?”

“No Sir.”

Gladio growled in response before he pressed his large palms into Ignis’s shoulders and the younger man felt himself being guided onto his back. The marble tiles a cold bite against his bare skin.

“Arms above your head.”

Ignis trembled faintly, unsure if it was from the cold floor or the vulnerability of his position. He moved to obediently raise his arms, bound wrists settling above his head, sinewy arms stretching.

The Shield eased himself from the couch, moving to straddle the smaller man’s thighs. Ignis felt a thrill as Gladio’s legs pressed flush to the sides of his, and his firm ass settled a portion of his comforting weight against him.  The younger man looked up from his prone position, the placement of his bound wrists above his head made him feel ten times as exposed and vulnerable. He was terrified. He was excited. He was a trembling mess of contradictions beneath Gladio’s smoldering gaze.

“It’s okay, little pet. I’ve got you.” Gladio murmured softly as his large hands resumed their exploration of Ignis’s body in earnest, blunt nails grazed over Ignis’s pecs, raking insistently over each nipple before continuing downward. The combination of the cold floor beneath him and Gladio’s warm hands above him made the younger man writhe, arching against each touch as if the Shield’s hands seared his flesh.

With a little moan Gladio leaned forward, hands coming down to either side of Ignis’s head, and the older man let his mouth take over the exploration of Ignis’s flesh, He kissed his way along the lines of Ignis’s collarbone, pausing to sweep his tongue into the little ‘v’ at the apex of his chest.

“So beautiful,” Gladio’s voice was husky with appreciation. He continued to ease his way down Ignis’s body, lavishing kiss upon kiss, lick upon lick, over the lines of his chest. He paused over his nipples and Ignis felt rather than heard his appreciative growl as it rumbled against his sensitive flesh. The shield grazed his teeth across one, then captured it, tugging the little nub to attention before using his wonderful tongue to soothe the reddening skin.

Ignis moaned, trembling under Gladio’s ministrations, his bound arms twitching with the desire to reach to the other, to wrap his arms around him, pull himself closer. He could not, of course and Gladio knew it, chuckling with delight each time Ignis’s bound wrists slapped helplessly back against the floor.

“So eager, fuck.” Gladio shifted down further, and Ignis could feel the scrape of the other man’s stubble against his hip just above the point where his skin disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. More kisses, open-mouthed and reverent were laved across Ignis’s hips and stomach. Ignis couldn’t help the way his legs curled and uncurled at each touch, and his little involuntary movements only seemed to egg Gladio on more. When a hot tongue dared to trace the very edge of his waistline Ignis actually cried out in shock and pleasure. He was painfully, achingly aware of his blossoming erection, and each touch only made his pants feel tighter and more constricting.

“Please…” Ignis whispered.

Gladio peered up from where he was poised, hovering over Ignis’s navel. His amber eyes were dark, pupils blown with obvious desire for the lithe man laid out before him.

“Only because you look so fucking delicious, pet. You should see yourself.” Gladio’s lips curved into a possessive smile.  Ignis was faintly aware of the flush of his skin, the little red lines adorning his chest and hips that Gladio’s nails had drawn, the tender flesh that was probably tinting into a bruise where Gladio’s lips had nuzzled into him a bit too long, a bit too hard.

Ignis barely noticed the other man undoing his fly, but he arched at the unmistakable feeling of thick fingers curling under the waistbands of his pants and underwear, sliding them down in one smooth gesture. Ignis groaned in relief as his erection was freed, springing wantonly to life before Gladio’s eyes.

Once upon a time he would have been mortified to have someone else see him like that, to see the way his dick was engorged with arousal, the tip already glistening with precome. It was base, carnal, and uncivilized. It was exactly what Ignis wanted and needed, especially after such a demanding week.

Gladio dipped his head down, warm tongue tracing the curve of the tip, tasting the precome that continued to leak. He smacked his lips approvingly but much to Ignis’s dismay, the Shield drew himself up to kneel between Ignis’s parted thighs, looking down at the panting, writhing, absolute mess of an Advisor before him.

“As much as I want to taste you more, because fuck, you’re delicious, I want to watch you. I want to see every little twitch, every little expression when you come undone.” Gladio’s gaze bored into Ignis’s and the latter could only whimper his assent. Gladio grunted, a hand reaching up to give one of Ignis’s nipples a sharp twist.

“Couldn’t hear that, pet?”

“Ahh, yes Sir, yes!” Ignis moaned.

“Good.” Gladio palmed Ignis’s aching dick, his hand was almost large enough to swallow the hard flesh. Thick but pleasantly nimble fingers curled around Ignis’s girth and he began stroking out a slow, steady rhythm, the pressure gentle at first but slowly increasing as the other tightened his grip.

“You feel so good, little pet. You’re so good.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Ignis’s voice was faint, struggling to push out the words when all he wanted to do was moan and cry with pleasure. Gladio had begun tugging him more irregularly, fingers sometimes teasing at his tip. His other hand cupped Ignis’s balls which were growing heavy and tight with need.

They stayed like this for a few minutes, Gladio kneeling over Ignis, both hands working his needy cock, one stroking, one massaging, all the while Gladio drank in the sight of Ignis splayed out before him, partially bound, writhing against the floor.

Gladio teased the head of his cock with a talented thumb and forefinger, eliciting a sharp cry from Ignis, causing him to buck his hips shamelessly up into Gladio’s palm. The Shield growled approvingly and continued to torture the head which was drenched in precome by then.

Ignis didn’t know if it was because this was the first time that someone else had touched him there, or if it was because Gladiolus specifically was touching him there, but he found that his barriers were ripped apart before he could even think about resisting, about holding back.

“Sir, I c-can’t. So close. Please.” Ignis quivered, terrified of what would happen if his lustful body betrayed him.

Gladio moaned in delight, forcing a few more firm strokes along aching flesh, and Ignis found those few seconds of waiting for permission to be pure torture.

The Shield leaned forward slightly, looming over the smaller man even as his hands remained eagerly working on Ignis’s member. “Come for me, little pet.” Warm amber eyes swept across Ignis, drinking in each movement just as he’d promised.

With a soft cry Ignis’s hips bucked, thrusting himself into Gladio’s waiting palm, strings of thick come shooting into the other’s grasp. Gladio bit his own lip as he guided Ignis through the orgasm of his life, stroking him, milking him dry. Ignis’s vision began to blur, everything going white and hazy at the edges. He was dimly aware that he was crying out with pure unbridled pleasure as he rode the waves of his orgasm, guided still by Gladio’s hands. It took him several seconds or possibly minutes to come down from the exhilarating sensation and return somewhat to his senses.

“Thank you, Sir,” he managed to murmur, peering up at the other through half-lidded eyes. He could feel heat in his skin, knew that his pale skin was glowing pink with pleasure, knew that he was glistening with sweat and arousal, and that his hair was a furious mess. He had never felt more desirable. One look at the awestruck, hungry look on the Shield’s face quelled any lingering doubts that he’d had.

“Trust me. My pleasure.” Gladio grinned down at him, and moved to ease himself over the other man. He brought his hand to his mouth, and Ignis watched in fascination as the Shield snaked a tongue across his come-painted digits, drawing Ignis’s seed into himself with a satisfied smack of his lips.

“Delicious,” he growled down at his pet. Ignis beamed with pleasure.

Gladio reached down, pressing his fingers to Ignis’s mouth, still damp with the remnants of Ignis’s come, of his lust and desire. With a moan he flicked his tongue out, lapping at the thick, salty material, working his lips and tongue over Gladio’s skin, licking and kissing at him until he was clean. Each kiss seemed to say “Thank you,” and each lick was his way of shouting “I’m yours.”

Finally the larger man pulled his hand away from the fervent attentions Ignis was lavishing upon him, sitting back between Ignis’s thighs again, absently stroking the sated body before him. They were both quiet for a few moments, both just languishing in the other’s presence. It was Ignis who eventually spoke, his voice low and eager. “May I take care of you, Sir?” The bulge in Gladio’s pants was impossible to miss, and Ignis ached to satisfy the other man with his own body.

Gladio’s breath hitched, fingers that had been caressing Ignis’s stomach going still.

“You absolutely may, little pet. The only question is, which part of you do I want to claim as mine first.”

The pair locked eyes, warm amber and cool teal, both with pupils blown wide with lust.

“Wherever Sir wants, of course.”

Gladio chuckled, a large hand moving to slap the side of Ignis’s hip. “I don’t think you could handle me where I really want you, not yet.” He leered playfully even as he moved to undo his own fly, easing his jeans and boxers down to free his own impressive erection.

Ignis’s eyes widened despite himself as he drank in the sight of Gladio’s swollen cock, significantly larger than his own, and already upright and pressed against the cut lines of the Shield’s abs.

Gladio chuckled appreciatively at Ignis’s expression. “Don’t worry, I definitely want to pound you into the fucking floor, but not until you’re good and ready.” The Shield crawled over him, carefully spreading his weight out to avoid crushing the other. Ignis moaned in delight as he felt the swollen, searing girth of the other’s cock pressing against his own. Ignis was still slick with the remnants of his own release and it was easy for Gladio to slide himself against him, pressing their dicks together with enough friction to reignite Ignis’s passion.

“This is mine,” Gladio breathed in Ignis’s ear as he hovered over him. “No one else.” The larger man arched his hips, bucking down into Ignis for emphasis.

“Yes Sir,” Ignis moaned, straining to move his hips, but he was rather hopelessly pinned beneath the other. Gladio didn’t seem to mind, however, and he continued to buck into his partner, hot, slick flesh sliding against equally hot, equally slick flesh.

Ignis was awash in the most delightful sensations, from the pressure of Gladio’s aching dick against his, the way the fabric of Gladio’s clothing tortured his naked skin when their bodies rubbed together, and to the haphazard kisses and bites that the larger man peppered Ignis’s chest with.

Ignis could tell that Gladio was trying to hold back, trying to make the moment last for as long as possible. Ignis, in a fit of rebellion, ached for Gladio’s release more than he had ached for his own, and he whispered up at the other.

“Sir, please Sir, I’m yours, always yours, please, claim your pet, claim what’s yours.”

He didn’t even know what he was saying, he just let the eager, submissive words roll from his tongue while doing his best to snap his hips up to meet the other, despite the weight bearing him down.

With a groan and a curse Gladio shuddered with his release above him, leaning down to capture Ignis’s mouth in a bruising, claiming kiss, even as he rode out his own orgasm. Ignis moaned into Gladio’s mouth, helplessly carried along as Gladio’s release took its course and he sprayed come across Ignis’s belly.

“Thank you, Sir.” Ignis whispered as he felt the other man collapse atop him, then roll to one side to both avoid squishing Ignis and to avoid getting come all over himself.

Gladio curled himself into Ignis’s side, lazily tracing his fingers over Ignis’s come-splattered stomach. “No, thank you, little pet.”

They lay like that for several long minutes, getting their breath back, and some semblance of sanity. Gladio still caressing Ignis tenderly, murmuring soothing words in his ear, making the younger man feel almost unbearably precious.

Eventually Gladio pushed himself up with a little groan, motioning though for Ignis to stay where he was.

He returned a few moments later with a damp towel, using it to gently clean Ignis off.

“Thank you…” Ignis’s smile was fond as he watched the other man work.

In response the Shield simply reached up to untie Ignis’s wrists, then drew him up carefully into a sitting position on the floor, thick, sculpted arms wrapping protectively around him.

“I’ve come up with a new rule,” Gladio murmured, his chin pressed into the top of Ignis’s head as he continued to hold the Advisor close.

“Mmm? Yes Sir?” Ignis pressed his cheek into Gladio’s chest, doing his best to listen and not lose himself in how pleasant it was to be surrounded by the touch and scent of this glorious man.

“You’re not allowed to forget how fucking exquisite you are.”

Ignis chuckled, turning his head into the curve of Gladio’s neck to press a kiss there. “Yes, Sir”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By way of apology for the late update this week, I offer you 4000 additional words of smut.  
> Next week I'll languish in the aftermath of the smut. Oh, there'll be an aftermath.

Gladio and Ignis were comfortably sequestered in Gladio’s quarters. The Shield had wasted little time in insisting that Ignis strip himself down to naught but his black boxer briefs and his tie. It amused the other to see the strip of silk dangling down Ignis’s chest, flush against firm ivory skin instead of a dress shirt.  Gladio for once had lead by example, divesting himself of the track pants and tank he had been wearing.

“Over here, pet,” Gladio motioned, leading Ignis over to the sectional sofa. With a great sigh Gladio leaned back into the soft leather, legs stretching down the length of the cushions, thighs parted invitingly. With a gesture he indicated for Ignis to join him, and much to Ignis’s delight he found himself nestled back against Gladio’s bare chest, the larger man’s arms wrapped around his waist, strong thighs braced against him to either side.

They lay like that, each revelling in the feeling of skin against skin, breathing deeply of the other’s scent. Gladio’s nose tickled Ignis’s hair as he breathed him in. Ignis sighed happily, letting Gladio’s vaguely sunshiney scent fill his senses.  Emboldened by the fact that he was allowed on the furniture for once, Ignis turned his head to the side, a sculpted cheek pressed into Gladio’s broad chest. He kissed the Shield’s shoulder and chest, just light, breathy kisses, wordless expressions of contentment and appreciation. He heard Gladio sigh and he peered up at him, teal eyes aglow with affection.

Gladio was smiling down at Ignis, but the Advisor couldn’t miss the tension around the Shield’s rich amber eyes, nor the lines creasing his normally smooth brow.

“Sir?” Ignis asked, hesitating a moment.

“Yeah pet?” Gladio’s arms tightened around him.

“Is everything okay?”

Gladio tipped his head back deeper into the couch cushions and sighed again, and Ignis could see the tension working at the elder’s jaw. It twitched as if irritated, and Ignis found himself wincing, unsure if whatever was evidently bothering Gladio was his fault.

Gladio evidently saw the gesture, because he moved a hand to stroke Ignis’s hair comfortingly. “Just a bad day. They’re really pushing recruitment for the Guard and the Glaives and we’re starting to be overrun with all these green soldiers who barely know which end of a sword to hold and which to poke the other guy with,” he chuckled weakly, probably for Ignis’s benefit.

“Hmm,” Ignis hummed softly, reaching down to stroke his fingers lightly over Gladio’s arms, tracing the edges of his tattoo. “Yes, the war council keeps passing motions to increase funding and recruitment. They have grown concerned as of late,” Ignis chose his words delicately, unsure how much Gladio knew about the current threat and how much council business filtered down to the Crownsguard. He knew that Clarus’s son was better informed than most.

Gladio grunted. “It’s easy for those stuffed shirts on the council to talk, they don’t have to find the time and resources to train and supervise them. Ahh well. I’m just the muscle, what do I know.” Gladio’s tone was bitter, darker than usual. Ignis could tell that the current state of affairs with the military was bothering him greatly.

“You know a great deal,” Ignis murmured soothingly, another kiss pressed to Gladio’s chest. “Take it from a stuffed shirt in training.”

Gladio chuckled, rough fingers threading through Ignis’s sandy hair. “Maybe I’ll talk to Dad about this, see what we Amicitias can do.”

Ignis hummed in agreement, continuing to kiss the other’s torso. After a few moments of silently adoring the other man, he pulled back a bit to look up at the Shield, who continued to look tense. “Is there anything I can do in the meantime, Sir?” Teal eyes peered up, heavy-lidded and suggestive.

Fingers that had moments ago been tenderly caressing his scalp were suddenly clenched tight, fisted around a handful of Ignis’s hair. Gladio tugged, forcing Ignis’s head to snap back sharply. The younger man tried to cry out at the pain of it, but his mouth was too swiftly captured beneath a demanding kiss that left him breathless and gasping and altogether desperate to sate the larger man.

“Kneel. Where you fucking belong,” Gladio growled. In a rather stark contradiction to his own command, however, he kept his grip firm in Ignis’s hair, and leaned in to rake his teeth lightly over the exposed column of Ignis’s throat. Ignis whimpered when Gladio’s grip finally slackened and the elder gave him a firm shove that spilled him out of his lap and down to the floor.

Gasping, Ignis forced his quavering limbs to comply, taut legs curled beneath him to kneel, shaking hands finding a home atop his knees, just the way he knew that Gladio liked it, wanted it. Gods but he was suddenly desperate to please him, it didn’t matter how low and pathetic he may look knelt there at the other’s feet, breathless and obedient. All that mattered was that Gladio obviously needed something, and by the Six Ignis was going to provide for him if he could.

Gladio grunted and reached down, capturing Ignis’s jaw, his thumb and forefinger digging into his cheeks, contorting his features. “Chin up slightly,” he gave Ignis’s chin a little tug upwards for emphasis.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you for correcting me.”

“You can thank me,” Gladio’s voice purred down to him, and Ignis noted with delight and trepidation that he had not removed his hand from its grip on his face, “by putting that clever mouth of yours to use.” He gave Ignis’s cheek a firm tap with his index finger before tracing said finger over the gentle curve of Ignis’s mouth.

Ignis moaned compliantly, and pressed his lips reverently to Gladio’s finger. Gladio hummed approvingly and lightly pushed his finger into the Advisor’s mouth, guiding it past soft lips. It was Ignis’s turn then to hum, drawing Gladio’s finger into the warmth of his mouth, sucking gently, tongue cradling the digit.

“Good pet,” Gladio chuckled and removed his finger from Ignis’s mouth, then paused to wipe the spit-slickened skin against Ignis’s own cheek. “Now let’s put you to work.”

Gladio reached down, fingers circled around Ignis’s tie. He wrapped it around his hand until it formed an extremely short leash, and gave it a sharp tug. The force sent Ignis tumbling forward onto his hands and knees, his head brought over Gladio’s lap where he could see the older man’s erection peaking beneath his briefs. Gladio reached one-handed to tug the waistband of his briefs down, freeing his cock.

Ignis, being a rather clever man, did not require additional instruction. He had never been on the giving or receiving end of a blowjob, but he would do his best to imagine what would feel good, what he would want done to him were their positions reversed. A bit tentatively he slid his tongue out, pressing first the tip then the flat of his tongue along the underside of Gladio’s cock, tracing the thick vein there.  He noted the way Gladio’s fingers curled with pleasure in Ignis’s hair when he laved the flat of his tongue against him.

Ignis continued to worship Gladio’s dick with his tongue, licking from base to tip, letting it tease Gladio’s balls, the shaft, the reddening tip.  He payed attention to when the other man groaned with pleasure, or when he stroked Ignis’s hair. He also noted the pleasantly salty taste of Gladio’s cock and the heady, intoxicating scent of his groin. The Advisor leaned forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the base of the Shield’s swollen member, his nose buried in the wiry hair, breathing deeply. This seemed to particularly please the one above him, as a large palm was pressed to the back of Ignis’s head, holding him in place for a few moments.

Gladio tolerated Ignis adoring him with kisses and licks before his fingers tugged insistently at his hair again, shifting Ignis so that the tip of Gladio’s cock brushed against his lips.  One last, lingering kiss was pressed to the weeping slit, painting Ignis’s clever mouth with precome, before Ignis slid his mouth down, taking the bulbous head into the warmth of his mouth.

Gladio kept his warm, rough hands firmly pressed against Ignis’s head, fingers sometimes caressing, sometimes tugging painfully. Ignis did his best to take note and learn through Gladio’s touches and occasional sounds of pleasure what he liked and did not like.

Ignis closed his eyes, losing himself in the cacophony of sensation all around him. Gladio’s muscular thighs to either side of him, his scent all around him, the taste and feeling of his cock in his mouth. Ignis hummed happily as he drew the first few inches into his mouth, sucking firmly on Gladio’s tip, his cheeks hollowing with the effort.

 Gladio was not exactly small.  Ignis tried to draw the larger man deeper into the warm, wet chasm of his mouth, but he didn’t even have half of Gladio in him before the tip was brushing against the back of his mouth and his gag reflex reared its ugly head. Ignis whimpered around Gladio’s heated, hardened member. The other man’s hands were keeping him in place, tip probing the back of his mouth when Ignis wanted to pull back, retreat that extra inch to be comfortable again.

Ignis sighed through his nose, breath tickling against Gladio’s groin, causing the other to himself sigh contentedly. Despite his discomfort, Ignis was happy. Gladio needed this, needed him, and he would give this everything that he had, and possibly more. Hoping to sate the other man, Ignis used one hand to cup Gladio’s swollen, tightened balls, massaging the silky hot flesh with his palm; his other hand moved to encircle the base of the shaft, nimble fingers curled around Gladio’s impressive girth.  He tightened his lips around Gladio’s dick, sucking harder, tighter, his head bobbed up and down under Gladio’s hands, trying to mirror the movements of his other hand stroking around the shaft. His rhythm was perhaps a bit off due to inexperience, but Gladio continued to growl and moan in pleasure, his dick twitching eagerly in Ignis’s servile little mouth.

Ignis could hear the Shield breathing above him, growing raspy and irregular as lust began overpowering him. Ignis hummed happily again, and the vibration seemed to please Gladio to no end.

“Little pet, fucking yes,” Gladio finally managed to speak.

The Shield arched his hips forward, forcing his cock deeper into Ignis’s throat, hitting the back of his mouth insistently. His fingers were firmly tangled in Ignis’s hair, holding him in place. For his part Ignis focused on stroking the shaft and massaging the balls, letting his mouth simply be used as a tool for Gladio’s pleasure.  He focused on not gagging, and on pleasing the other with his hands.

With a last snap of his hips and tug at Ignis’s hair, Gladio went suddenly rigid, sending streams of hot, salty come down Ignis’s throat. The younger man had no choice but to try to swallow it. It was hot, creamy and salty. Not unpleasant, but it was difficult to keep up as waves of pleasure rolled through Gladio, bringing more and more come. Eventually Gladio heaved an almighty sigh and slumped back into the couch cushions, his dick slipping from Ignis’s mouth. The Advisor ran his fingers across his reddened, wet lips, wiping away the excess come. Peering up somewhat coyly, he licked the fluid from his fingers.

Gladio grinned wolfishly at that. “Not bad, little pet.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Ignis was surprised at how raspy his voice was. He cleared his throat and smiled up at the other man. His throat felt raw and his jaw ached, but the smile was truly genuine.

Gladio chuckled and reached down for the end of Ignis’s tie. “Come on,” he growled, rising to his feet and signalling for Ignis to get up. Ignis uncurled, legs only a little wobbly, and followed as he was lead into Gladio’s bedroom. He was lead up onto Gladio’s bed, and the mattress was pleasantly soft and yielding after being on his hands and knees on the marble floor previously.

“Hands and knees, head down.” Gladio ordered. Ignis could still detect a hint of tension in the other man’s voice, despite his release. Ignis hoped that whatever the other man was planning, it was for his benefit and not Ignis’s. At that moment despite the ache in his jaw he still wished to be used for Gladio’s pleasure, or relaxation, or whatever the Shield needed.

Obediently he shifted into position, and Gladio’s firm hands were there to guide him until he was on display just as he wished, with his hips slightly lifted and forehead bowed down to the bed. Gladio growled approvingly as he moved to kneel behind Ignis, rough fingers moving to peel Ignis’s briefs down his thighs, baring his tight ass.

“One of these days, little pet, I’m going to claim this.” Gladio rumbled down at him, voice husky with obvious desire. “One of these fucking days.” A thick fingertip ghosted over his tight, puckered hole and Ignis couldn’t stop himself from trembling. Gods but he wanted that too, to surrender every last piece of himself to the other man.

“But not today.” When Ignis whined in wordless protest Gladio just snorted. “I’d fucking break you in this mood. That’s okay, though. Your ass is still plenty fucking useful right now,” and he gave Ignis’s backside a firm swat for emphasis.

Ignis let his eyes drift closed as Gladio began slapping his open palms against his flesh, the snap of skin meeting skin echoing around the small room.  This was different than the first time Gladio had spanked him. That had seemed almost a tease, with little caresses and kisses mingled in, taking the edge off of the sting. This was different. This was use, the releasing of everything that Gladio had bottled up that day that hadn’t fully been released through orgasm.

The Shield’s palm rained smacks down across Ignis’s ass, with no discernable pattern to which cheek took the blow. Gladio lavished one reddening cheek with seven hard smacks before finally moving on to give the opposite cheek attention.  The backs of Ignis’s thighs were also pinking under Gladio’s attention, and the Advisor wouldn’t have been surprised if the outline of Gladio’s fingers could be seen blooming in his skin.

Gladio was relentless in his conquest of Ignis’s backside. It was as if the younger man was serving as a surrogate for the elder council members whom he was sure the Shield wanted to beat the shit out of for putting the Crownsguard in such a state.  “Yes, thank you, Sir!” Ignis cried out encouragingly. He could sense the remaining stress filtering out of the other man each time his hand collided with Ignis’s smooth skin.

Gladio growled in response, landing a hard smack across the backs of Ignis’s taut thighs.

Ignis rocked forward with each hard smack, his knees had gone weak. With a moan he felt his body give out, but he caught himself on his forearms. One of Gladio’s hands grasped Ignis’s hip, ensuring that his ass remained on glorious display. 

“Mine. You’re my little pet.” Gladio began punctuating each word with a firm slap of his hand against Ignis’s reddened ass. “You” smack “are” smack “all” smack “fucking” smack “mine,” smack.

Ignis panted, as sweat beaded cold across his body, contrasting with the burning in his ass. The spanks that had began as a dull ache now stung and burned as Gladio’s rough palm landed upon already red skin. He buried his face firmly in the bedding to muffle his groans, although Gladio could likely scarcely hear Ignis over the sound of skin meeting skin and his own grunts of satisfaction.

This was more painful than he had expected, and somewhere in the back of Ignis’s mind he considered using his safe word. He bit into the bedding to stop himself, though. He could handle this. Gladio clearly needed this and by all of the Six if he could bear it, he would. It was just pain, after all. He was even dimly aware of how hard his cock was getting. There was something exhilarating about feeling Gladio unleash a portion of his raw power onto him, the way his body struggled to accommodate the other, larger, stronger man. There was something so deeply satisfying about knowing that Gladio needed this additional release, that Ignis was being useful and pleasing for once without having to be the one to analyze the situation and determine what was needed. No, Gladio had that well in hand and Ignis loved it.

Part of Ignis wanted to cry out in pain, to scream, sob, beg for mercy, anything to let the other man know how much this hurt. It would almost be a test, to see if Gladio cared enough about him to stop what he was doing, set aside his own satisfaction in favour of taking care of Ignis, his little pet. Ignis wanted to be reassured that he wasn’t just a vehicle for Gladio to unleash his passions and frustrations upon, and he wanted to know that the behemoth of a man was still warm and tender at his core.  Ignis clenched his fingers into fists until his nails bit into his palms. No. Gods no. That went against everything that he and Gladio were trying to build here, and exactly why he was supposed to shut off his brilliant, overly-analytical brain. Unclenching his fists, he sank deeper into the world of pure sensation around him, until his thoughts were nothing but white noise.

At length-it could have been any number of minutes, Ignis had no concept of time just then-Gladio gave Ignis one last slap across both cheeks before collapsing overtop him. Both men fell into the yielding mattress, Gladio’s bare chest covering Ignis’s back, their legs tangled together.  Gladio’s head was next to Ignis’s, and he shifted until his lips were by the Advisor’s ear, breath tickling the sensitive skin. “Fuck, pet. Thank you.” A kiss, hot and tender was lavished behind Ignis’s ear, making the smaller man whine happily.

Slowly and carefully Gladio rolled off of Ignis, large hands moving to stroke the other man tenderly, from his sweaty, messy hair, and down his back.  Ignis turned his head slightly to look up at the other, and he was beyond pleased to see how calm and sated the other man was, his face no longer creased with worry and tension.  Ignis smiled then hissed sharply as Gladio caressed his ass. The touch felt like a dagger slicing into him, even though he knew that Gladio was handling him gently.

“Shit, sorry pet,” Gladio’s amber gaze was full of concern then as he seemed to really take in the state of Ignis sprawled out before him, sweaty and trembling, his ass and thighs red from the spanking, and his face reddened as well from being buried in the bedding. Gladio made a soft “tsk” sound, and shifted around. He kept one hand on Ignis’s shoulder as if wanting to ground the other man, while he reached out with his other to rummage around in the nightstand. Ignis squinted curiously as he watched, then realized that the Shield had grabbed a bottle of the same soothing lotion he had used previously.

Ignis sighed in relief. Now that the intoxicating thrill of serving Gladio was fading, he was more keenly aware of the pain.

“It’ll be okay,” Gladio soothed quietly. One hand continued to rub little circles into his back, and the other lightly dabbed lotion onto Ignis’s burning, aching skin. Ignis hissed involuntarily at the faintest touch, his eyes screwed shut as Gladio ever so gently rubbed the cream into his cheeks and the backs of his thighs.  A rough thumb ran tenderly over Ignis’s cheekbones and it was then that the Advisor realized that at some point he had begun to cry. Ignis never cried. It was a stupid, useless response to a situation that he had long schooled himself to avoid when possible.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” Shame kept his gaze averted from the other man. “I don’t know why-“

Gladio cut him off, pressing his fingertips to Ignis’s mouth. “Don’t,” was all he said, and Ignis nodded weakly in response.

The Shield soothed Ignis’s abused flesh as best as he could before he helped the other man into a makeshift sitting position, up on all fours again as Ignis couldn’t bear to put any weight on his ass at the moment.

“Drink,” Gladio murmured softly, holding out a bottle of water that must have been on the nightstand. It was a bit warm, but soothed Ignis’s throat regardless. Gladio resumed stroking Ignis’s back, soothing him with gentle touches.

“Wait here a moment, ok? I’m going to get you a potion.” The Shield pressed a kiss into Ignis’s tangled hair before he eased off of the bed, padding barefoot to the bathroom where Ignis presumed his medical supplies were kept.  Ignis felt cold and empty without the other man’s presence, and he counted each second until the Shield was back, potion in hand.

When the other man cracked the potion, the relief was immediate. Ignis could feel the burn lessening and imagined that his ass was more of a soft pink colour than angry red. Gingerly he shifted into a kneeling position and found that he could settle his beaten ass onto his heels without too much discomfort.

“Thank you, Sir.” Ignis flashed a reassuring smile up at the Shield, whose eyes were still full of concern and—was that regret?

Gladio shook his head gently and climbed back up onto the bed beside Ignis.  The Advisor gazing affectionately at the Shield, while the Shield seemed to be studying his own hands intently, as if the mysteries of the cosmos were written across his palms.

“Fuck, Ignis,” Gladio finally breathed a long sigh. “My hand is fucking killing me. I-“ he paused, fumbling for his words. “If I hurt this much I don’t even know how much you…” Gladio trailed off, unable to finish verbalizing the thought.

Ignis averted his gaze and cleared his throat, not wanting his voice to sound weak or raspy despite his recent exertions. “I’m happy to serve you, Sir.”

Gladio tsked at him again, broad arms reaching to scoop the smaller man into a hug before laying them down together atop the sheets, facing each other.  “You’re really something else.” A kiss pressed to Ignis’s temple causing him to sigh, his own body beginning to relax. “Are you okay though?”

“Mmhm, yes Sir.”

“Okay.” Thick fingers were stroking Ignis’s back, carefully stopping before the Shield could accidentally touch the flesh that was still quite tender. “Are you okay with sleeping here? I’d like to keep an eye on you, check you out in the morning.” Gladio was frowning slightly. “I shouldn’t have gone at you so hard, even if you were okay with it.”

“It would be a privilege, Sir.” Ignis pressed a kiss into the hollow of Gladio’s neck.  Fearful that the Shield would try to be chivalrous and move to the couch, Ignis brought a sinewy arm up and over Gladio’s waist, anchoring himself firmly to the other man, silently signalling that it was okay to share the bed. Of course Gladio was still free to extradite himself and retreat to the couch, or banish his pet to the floor. The Shield seemed content to let their two bodies cling together, though. He shifted onto his back, drawing Ignis flush to his side, the Advisor’s tired head finding an easy pillow against his partner’s shoulder.  Ignis managed to find a reasonably comfortable posiiton, half on his side, half on his stomach. His behind still ached, just not as badly as it did before the potion, and he didn't think that he could handle sleeping on it. He just hoped that he would feel better before another long day of council meetings. Those conference room chairs were hard and horrible.

There was no blanket over them, neither man having the energy or the will to get up to fetch it from where one lay folded at the foot of the bed. That was okay. All they needed was each other’s body heat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel the need to defend Gladio a bit here. No one is perfect, and being a Dom is probably really frigging difficult. While in my head Gladio is more experience than Ignis, he's still a fairly young man and like all young men he can and will make mistakes. Luckily this mistake wasn't too bad.  
> Please trust that the boys are not going to just sleep the night off and go on as if nothing happened. Gladio is better than that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curse ye springtime flu, ye are my nemesis. Apologies for the late and probably kinda-sorta-very weird update.
> 
> Back to fluffy smutty deliciousness next week. Y'all got spoiled last week anyway. I'll probably spoil you (and Iggy) next week, too. <3

The soft light of a lemon sky bathed Ignis and Gladio as they dozed together. Sometime through the night the Shield had impersonated a starfish; broad limbs spread every which way across the mattress. Ignis woke to find himself draped across the sculpted mass of Gladio’s chest, straddling a muscular thigh.

Ignis blinked several times, needing to mentally and physically regain his bearings. He couldn’t see a clock from where he lay cradled atop Gladio’s mass, but he could discern from the weak golden light permeating the room that it was sometime between 6 and 7am. He desperately hoped that it was closer to 6:00, as he was expected at Noct’s for 7:30.

The young strategist had every intention of smoothly easing himself off of the still sleeping giant and tip-toeing away, allowing the other to snatch as much sleep as possible.  His plans were cruelly dashed to pieces when, upon shifting his weight down, he felt an unholy throb in his ass, pain that spiked straight up his spine and down his thighs. He hissed with frustration as he was forced to crawl with halting movements towards the edge of the bed, causing the mattress to dip and shift enough to tempt Gladio out of sleep’s peaceful oblivion.

Ignis stilled himself, soft teal gaze fixed on the larger man, willing him to drift back to sleep. Alas it wasn’t to be. The other man’s arms curled towards his chest, searching for Ignis, his makeshift blanket. Finding naught but cold empty air Gladio groaned and shot upwards into a sitting position with surprising speed, given his size and previous state of unconsciousness.

“I don’t wanna pet the chocobos!” he whined, before he blinked sleep from honeyed eyes to take in the sight of Ignis, frozen on all fours beside him, eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and mirth.  What on Eos had the other man been dreaming of?

“Well then you don’t have to,” Ignis cooed in a tone of voice usually reserved for small children or puppies. Gladio just scowled, rubbing his hands up and down his face in an effort to coax himself into full wakefulness.

“Good thing you’re fucking cute, you know that?”

Ignis chuckled, bowing his head appreciatively at the compliment, before finally looking up and around, finally spying an alarm clock resting sideways on the nightstand. Only a quarter past six. That was good, he still had plenty of time, though he still couldn’t afford to tarry long, particularly if his bottom was going to keep twinging with every movement, it would slow down his morning routine.  Sighing, he continued to ease himself from the bed.

“Tending to Prince Charmless this morning?”

“As always, yes.”

“Alright, I won’t keep you long. Just lemme get a look at you, okay?” Gladio wore the same concerned, guilty expression from last night. It made Ignis flinch inwardly, seeing the sadness behind usually mirthful golden eyes.

“I shall be perfectly fine. A bit tender, but nothing that a painkiller or two can’t fix.”

Gladio shifted atop the bedsheets to get a better look at Ignis, and he snorted derisively.

“You look like you fucking sat in a blueberry pie.”

Ignis quirked an elegant brow. “Are you into that, Sir?”

Gladio scowled. “No, and this isn’t funny.”

“I’m berry sorry.”

Gladio groaned, but Ignis could see the way the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement.

“Whatever. Go get yourself dressed. I’ll get you something for the pain. Just holler if you need any help, alright?”

Ignis nodded. “Yes Sir,” and began his slow progression towards the living room where his clothing, save his underwear and tie, were piled underneath Gladio’s coffee table.  He wrinkled his nose in distaste at putting on yesterday’s clothing, even if it was only temporary.

Gladio joined him shortly, bearing a cup of water and two tablets nestled in his big palm.

“Damn, little pet. Only you could make a walk of shame look this good.”

“It’s in my job description. Page 25, subsection C, paragraph 5 re: avoidance of royal scandal.” An enigmatic smile tugged at Ignis’s lips, knowing that the other man wouldn’t be entirely sure whether this was true or if Ignis was toying with him. He took the offered tablets, popping them into his mouth before taking the glass of water to chase the medication down.

Gladio just snorted and moved to put the used glass in the sink.

Ignis ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing and taming it to the best of his ability. He knew that the slightly rumpled quality of his clothing coupled with his slightly mussed hair wouldn’t do his reputation any favours, but he at least wanted to minimize the damage. When he was as presentable as he imagined he could be, he turned to face the taller man. “I really best be off.”

Gladio nodded, and stepped forward to place a heavy hand gently upon Ignis’s shoulder. “Okay. Text me if you need anything. I can get you out of meetings or whatever if you need.” He squeezed Ignis’s shoulder. “Otherwise, I’ll see you in a bit, we got training scheduled, yeah?”

Ignis nodded, wincing a bit. Training. Bloody hell, perhaps if he had remembered that little fact he might well have pulled the brakes last night.

Gladio laughed softly at Ignis’s obvious dismay. “Just meet me here instead of the training hall, okay?”

Ignis nodded, relief adding warmth to his tone. “Yes Sir. Thank you.”

Before Ignis could vacate Gladio’s quarters, the Shield lifted his hand from the Advisor’s shoulder, instead cupping the sharp lines of his cheek, a warm thumb sweeping back and forth across Ignis’s cheekbone. “Before you go, I just wanted to say… I really … you …” Gladio grunted, frustrated at his inability to find the right words. With an aggravated sigh he leaned down, closing the height gap between the two men, to press a soft kiss to Ignis’s lips. Ignis sighed into the contact, his own mouth soft and pliant beneath the other’s. Gladio brought his other hand to the back of Ignis’s head so that he was cradled between two large hands, and feeling utterly infused with affection and care.

When Gladio drew back from the kiss Ignis smiled up at him, taking Gladio’s meaning from his actions when words failed. “I do understand. Thank you.”

* * *

The best that Ignis could say about his morning was that it passed, and seemingly without incident. He made it back to his quarters to change without passing too many people, and those he did encounter were likely too groggy with sleep to notice anything unusual about the Advisor. Ignis made it to Noct’s apartment with a whopping two minutes to spare, the drive there being uncomfortable but not wholly unbearable thanks to the painkillers and quality leather seats. Ignis ate breakfast standing up at Noct’s kitchen counter, and did his best to simply appear too busy to sit.

By the time he had dropped Noctis off at school and returned to the Citadel for his round of morning meetings Ignis was rather more conscious of his bruising, but gallantly chose to perceive the twinges and throbs as friendly little reminders of Gladio’s attention. That helped, or so he tried to convince himself.

When Ignis’s third consecutive meeting rolled around he was finally forced to admit that he was unable to sufficiently focus on what was being said to take down coherent notes for Noctis. The chairs in the conference room were obviously designed for aesthetic appeal and not long-term comfort. A hard wooden frame stained black to match the royal décor, with a seat of deep gold leather that seemed to lack any actual padding beneath the dyed fabric. Fortunately, this was a meeting where Ignis was not expected to contribute, merely taking notes for the Prince. Notes that he could, technically, compile by requesting a copy of the meeting’s transcript from one of the council scribes. He preferred not to, as it was infinitely faster to write out his own, but desperate times, desperate measures.

The strategist focused on simply sitting still and keeping his expression stoic. He allowed his mind to drift as a means of distancing himself from the physical pains of his body. He briefly entertained himself with trying to think of new and creative ways to sneak vegetables into Noct’s diet—perhaps he could puree them and mix them into a sauce for a new curry. It didn’t take long, however, before his thoughts drifted into even spicier territory: Gladiolus.

Not for the first time Ignis found himself marvelling at how much he thoroughly enjoyed the other’s company. It was hard to believe that the man who made him feel so safe and content was the same man whom he found so off-putting and irksome when they had first met.  He was equally surprised, when he allowed himself to analyze the situation, at how much he enjoyed submitting to the other. It seemed illogical and out of character; pain and debasement were not typically positive experiences or sensations. How was it, then, that he had so enjoyed being forced to kneel before the other when strictly speaking he outranked Gladio? Why had he so utterly enjoyed it when Gladio had essentially fucked his face? Why, despite the discomfort that was threatening to impair his duties, was he still fairly certain that he would not have reined Gladio in last night if given another chance? Could it be that his feelings had crossed the boundaries of friendship and submission and into love? Adoration?

Ignis bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, looking for all the world like the studious advisor diligently observing the meeting in his charge’s stead. In his mind, he tried to distance himself from the situation. What would he think, for example, if he were his own advisor? How would he analyze this seeming mess of contradictions and wild emotions? His clever mind reeled, parsing months and even years worth of interactions and experiences, until reality settled itself in his gut like a great stone weight. Gladiolus Amicitia was the first person in probably a decade who had offered genuine friendship and affection to him when neither familial ties nor duty had been behind it. Some had tried to get close to him in an effort to become closer to the Crown, but Ignis had always seen through those schemes and cut ties with such people.

The question that Ignis next had to battle with was a simple but potentially devastating one: did he bear these feelings for Gladio because of who Gladio was, or would he have given himself over so wholeheartedly to anyone who seemed willing to reciprocate, and Gladio simply got there first? Ignis was honestly unsure which possibility terrified him the most. Being woefully inexperienced with truly profound relationships, Ignis resolved himself to carefully observe Gladio, and take his cues from him. Surely Gladio was infinitely more experienced with such matters. If this truly was something more meaningful than Ignis being bloody sad and pathetic, surely Gladio would feel the same way and it would show.

Ignis was so absorbed in his thoughts that he hardly noticed the meeting had adjourned. Half of the Council had filed from the room before he even thought to close his notebook and stand up. Schooling his features into a politely neutral mask he nodded and smiled his farewells to the men around him and made his way out.

The Advisor made his way through the Citadel's corridors, pausing occasionally to return a nod or brief greeting. It was the midday rush and bustle, the time when guard rotations changed, meetings and conferences let out, and staff members ventured from their little offices to have lunch. The happy chatter of his colleagues surrounded him, guards teasing each other and laughing heartily, office workers laughing and chatting quietly about everything but work. The noise and merriment swelled around Ignis and for once he was rather acutely aware of how all by his damn self he was. He felt like an island amid a sea of happy people and their bonds of friendship that extended well beyond the requirements of duty.

By the time Ignis reached Gladio's quarters he was feeling decidedly pathetic and about 97.4% certain that his attachment to the Shield was absolutely based upon some desperate need of his own to have a bond with someone, anyone, other than Noctis and his own family. He felt like a fool for imagining that Gladio could possibly feel anything truly significant for him; not when the Citadel was so full of people who could offer so much more than Ignis, people who were so much more like Gladio: warm, funny, personable, and with a healthy work-life balance.  Shoulders sagging with defeat from a battle he'd already decided to lose, Ignis knocked on Gladio's door. It was swept open within a heartbeat of his knock, revealing Gladio in all his glory, relaxed in a casual tracksuit, all toothy smiles and bright golden eyes that instantly captured Ignis's.

"Come on in, you look wiped," Gladio stepped back and ushered Ignis inside. The Advisor let out a long-held breath, relieved that Gladio had mistaken his dejection for exhaustion. Angry a himself for letting his thoughts carry him so far astray he refocused himself.

"I'm fine. My apologies. That last meeting was rather more dull than usual, and that's saying something for the water and sewer committee."

Gladio laughed heartily at that, shaking his head. "Damn. Suddenly this fresh crop of rookies I got seem like a fucking joy."

Ignis chuckled softly as he stepped out of dress shoes, leaving them in a neat line by the door. His clinical gaze swept the living space, taking in the noonday sun streaming in through the small window, the thick stripe of golden light across the polished floor, and the mess of bags piled atop the coffee table.

"Go on to the couch, pet. You can lie on your stomach if you're more comfortable that way."

"Yes Sir." Ignis smiled gently and went to the sectional as instructed. He paused briefly, considering whether he did want to rest on his front. He hated to give the other man a visible reminder of how much discomfort he'd inflicted upon him, but he did have another more important meeting that afternoon with the war council and he really needed to pay attention to it.  A bit shamefaced, he stretched his lean form out along one side of the couch. The sun painted a warm stripe over his back in this position and it felt pretty wonderful.

A few moments later Gladio joined him. In a reversal of roles that Ignis almost found amusing, the Shield sat cross-legged on the floor beside him so that they were more or less at eye level with each other.  "Am I safe in assuming that you didn't have lunch yet?" the larger man rumbled.

Ignis nodded, and murmured, "Usually a safe assumption, Sir."

Gladio snorted irritably and began unpacking the bags. First he withdrew a can of iced Ebony and Ignis's eyes immediately glazed over. Gladio just shook his head at the obvious caffeine lust on Ignis's face, handing the can over along with a small bottle of painkillers. "Here, assuming you actually had breakfast, take more of these."

"Yes Sir," Ignis obeyed while Gladio continued unpacking bags, laying out little plastic containers with the name of a nearby deli stamped on the lids.  "I wasn't sure what kind of sandwiches you like so I got a buncha different kinds. Figured you wouldn't be the overly picky type, hopefully some of this is okay."

Ignis blinked several times before he found his voice, and it was thick with traitorous emotions. "You brought us lunch? Gladio-I mean Sir- thank you."

"It's just sandwiches, Specky. You're welcome, though." Gladio smiled, then frowned, peering at Ignis's face a bit more intently than he had earlier, amber gaze locked onto teal as if Ignis's inner monologue could be read within his irises.  Ignis was glad that of course it couldn't be, he was not prepared for Gladio to find out how hard and fast he seemed to have fallen for him, nor did he want the other to see how much his newfound self-doubt was eating away at him.

Clearing his throat Ignis managed to keep his voice level and calm. "Yes well, they're sandwiches that I did not have to make or purchase, and they're sandwiches I didn't think that I would have time for today."

Gladio shook his head as he reached for what looked to be a roast beef sandwich, "Someone has to look after the guy who looks after everyone else, right?"

Ignis hummed non-committedly and reached for a cucumber sandwich, assuming that it was unlikely to be a favourite of Gladio's. It was delightful, the cucumber was fresh and crisp, and seasoned with just the right amount of pepper and mayo. His eyes drifted shut and he allowed himself to soak up the feeling of contentment that had begun to sweep over him, washing away his earlier anxiety and doubt. He was comfortable, well-fed, the sun warm on his back and Gladio's presence a pleasant diversion amid an otherwise dreary and uncomfortable day.

The two ate in companionable silence for a time, until they had both slowed down, merely grazing and nibbling at their favourite sandwiches instead of furiously refuelling.

"Alright, I know we don't have all day," Gladio finally spoke up, setting his sandwich crust down. Ignis set down the can of Ebony he was drinking from, fixing his attention on the Shield. he knew the other man would want to talk about last night, and Ignis did his best to keep his expression neutral.

"Indeed."

"Okay so, I know you're gonna want to interrupt me, but don't. You can consider that an order if you need to," Gladio flashed a smug smile. He didn't often exert his authority as Ignis's dominant. "I'm just gonna come out with it. I fucked up last night. Regardless of whatever the hell you may feel; I don't care if it was the best night of your life. I fucked up. I should have eased off on you way sooner than I did." Gladio clenched and unclenched his large fists in his lap. "A little bruising or tenderness to remember me by, sure, I'm down for that, but I really don't like seeing people really hurt." Gladio scowled. "That's on me, though. That's my limit, that's my hang-up. I'm supposed to keep myself in check and not let myself get carried away. If I had, I would have still been perfectly sated and you'd be able to sit down without medicating yourself. I'm really sorry. This is a learning process for me too, you know? I'm not perfect, don't let the rumor fool you. I started most of 'em."

Ignis nodded as Gladio spoke. His words made sense. He recalled one of their earlier discussions where Gladio had mentioned that he wasn't into hurting people really badly when playing with them, just a bit, just enough to make it interesting.

Gladio let out a soft sigh before continuing. "Just for the record, you were fucking amazing."

Ignis bowed his head modestly at the praise, causing his glasses to slip dangerously low on his nose.

Gladio chuckled. "Right. I've said my piece. You can talk again."

"Thank you, Sir."

The Shield grunted in acknowledgement, bringing a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, where his dark brown hair was longest. "Gotta ask you, though; why didn't you safe word? Gladio's eyes bored into Ignis's, curious and sincere. "It's okay if it's because you were enjoying it, or forgot, or anything in-between," the larger man felt the need to clarify. "I'm not judging or criticizing you. Just getting a better feel for you, ya know?"

Ignis's breath hitched, a slight grimace contorted his features. He didn't quite know how to explain that he had considered it. He knew that Gladio insisted upon brutal honesty, however. "Well, to be honest, I considered it, Sir." He wanted to shrug but in this position it was too awkward, so he contented himself with quirking a crooked smile. "I decided not to, once I realized that it was bearable. I really wanted to do that for you, do something, anything, for you. All of this has been such an eye-opening experience for me, and a truly wonderful one. You were quite astute when you theorized that I would enjoy this. " Ignis paused, offering a fuller smile to the Shield, who was grinning in a decidedly self-satisfied manner. "But," Ignis continued, and his brows drew together in consternation, "I've felt as if I've gotten so much more than you have out of this. With you being so tense and stressed I couldn't bear the thought of not letting the moment be all about you and your needs for a change."

Gladio let out a shaky laugh at this. "Gods, Ignis. That is so typically fucking you. As if you don't give enough of yourself to the Crown day in, and day out. Don't go getting hung up over takin' care of my big dumb ass."

Ignis frowned, a shadow falling across angular features. "I'm sorry, Sir." He didn't know what else to say to that.

The other man shook his head and reached out to brush calloused fingertips along Ignis's frown lines. "I do appreciate it, though."

A smile tugged at Ignis's lips, erasing the little frown lines. "I will concede, however that had I realized how sore I would be the next day, I likely would have said something, if only for the sake of not breaking our first rule. It seems I have my own learning curve when it comes to all of this."

Gladio nodded. "Yeah, and that's why I can't blame you. You had no way of knowing. But now you do, and you'll be more careful too, yeah? You're too fucking precious to me to hurt."

Something tugged sharply in Ignis's chest at those words. Precious? Him? Mustering up his courage he locked cool teal eyes with warm amber. Now was certainly as good a time as any to address one of his newfound worries. "May I ask you something, Sir?"

"I'm a pretty open book. Shoot."

Ignis averted his gaze briefly. He hadn't come into this little luncheon meeting intending to ask this but curiosity was burning a hole in his gut. "What do you get out of this?"

Deep lines creased Gladio's brow at that, and he cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. "In general? I like the control. We’re kind of opposites, you know, Specky? We both serve the Crown, but you’re free to go about things in your own way. Me? I’m just a soldier marching to my orders. I train when, whom, and how I’m told to, usually by my Dad.” He chuckled. “And I like taking care of people. I don’t get to do that much, even with the new recruits. Dad says we can’t baby ‘em.”

Ignis nodded his understanding. That made sense. As alike as their roles were, they went about them in radically different ways. Ignis’s role was very open-ended: guide the Prince ‘til he ascends, and then advise him to the best of his ability. He could go about his duties largely as he pleased, and though his schedule was merciless, it was by his own design. It hadn’t occurred to him that Gladio had been following much more specific, much more rigid instructions.  Clearing his throat he braced himself for his follow-up query. “And if I may, why me? Surely you have other more appealing options.” He’d phrased that as delicately as possible, not wanting to give the false impression that he was fishing for compliments.

“Excuse me?”

Ignis felt his heart sink. He could practically see confusion and anger warring for dominance in the other man’s expression. Taking a calming breath the strategist tried a different tactic. “I understand that you, correctly it seems, pegged me as someone who would enjoy privately submitting. I understand why you brought all of this wonderfulness to my attention.” He smiled a bit weakly. “I’m immensely grateful, Sir, just in case that’s not clear.” Some of the tension in the Shield’s expression faded. Good. “I am well aware, however, that I do not make for the best company, or the easiest friend. That’s likely why I have so few of them.” He smiled again, a crooked, self-deprecating sort of grin.

Gladio’s eyes were tender as he regarded Ignis, understanding what the other man was awkwardly trying to express. “Ignis,” deliberately using his proper name instead of a diminutive, “Stop. I get it.”

Ignis hushed, cheeks flaming with embarrassed heat.

“I’m not gonna lie to you. Yeah, it was hard to become your friend. You’re busy as shit, I’m pretty sure that Noct is supposed to have like half a dozen retainers but you do it all yourself. You’re always the smartest person in the room, and that’s intimidating. I think most folks figure that you don’t have time to waste on anyone who’s not royalty or isn’t on your level, and no one’s on your damn level. Makes you seem cold and untouchable.”

“Careful or all of this sweet-talk will go to my head,” Ignis muttered dryly.

“If you’d let me finish,” the Shield snorted, “I found out that yeah you’re busy, and yeah you operate on a completely different level compared to us mere mortals. But Gods. I’ve never known anyone who took such good care of everyone and everything around him, while totally neglecting himself. It drives me fucking crazy in the best fucking way. Also, you’re really funny. And good-lookin’.” Gladio leered playfully after that last comment; obviously a ploy to break some of the tension simmering in the air between them. It worked, Ignis found himself laughing good-naturedly.

“Okay, okay. My apologies. I let my mind wander during that last meeting and my thoughts took a rather melancholy turn.

“You better not be breakin’ any of my rules.”

Ignis chuckled. “Noctis will still receive my summary of the meeting, and I will still be exquisite in my exasperation as he procrastinates reading said summary.”

Gladio laughed, a deep rumbling sound from the depths of his chest, full of mirth and affection. “Good little pet,” He ruffles Ignis’s hair, careful to avoid his upswept bangs.

Ignis sighed, leaning into the touch. Not all of his fears and been assuaged, but it was a start. He wished that he could languish in the older man’s touch all day, letting his fingers card through his hair, brushing away his worries as if they were as fine and flimsy as his hair. Alas, he did have a full calendar to attend to. “I need to be going,” he reluctantly murmured.

Gladio scratched the back of Ignis’s head one last time before drawing back. “Yeah, looks like our time’s up.” He fixed Ignis with a serious stare. “I think you still need reminding of how exquisite you are. Text me when you’re free for the evening?”

“Yes Sir,” Ignis felt something flutter in his chest. Nervousness? Excitement?

He thanked Gladio for the lunch and made his way out of his quarters, more eager than ever for this day to be over, but now for all of the best reasons.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gladio is true to his word and tries to show Ignis how exquisite he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Another chapter? And it's fluffy as hell? Well I had to make up for Ignis's internal angst and self-deprecating woe somehow, didn't I?
> 
> This was meant to be longer but I think that I'll save the rest for the next chapter, I want to maintain the fluffy purity we got goin' on here.

Gladio met Ignis inside the Citadel’s underground parking garage. Ignis had texted him as he left Noct’s apartment for the evening, advising that he would be there in 10 minutes, as traffic was fairly light at that hour. It was 7:45, and rush hour was long over.

“Heya Specky.” The Shield had called cheerfully from his post near the elevator. He was dressed in a dark gray tracksuit and had a small duffel bag slung over a broad shoulder. Ignis lifted a hand to wave, brows arched in obvious curiosity as he approached.  “Good evening, Sir.”

Gladio smirked at the salutation, and his amber eyes glowed with inner warmth. “I still love the way that sounds, pet. Anyway, you ready?”

“For what, exactly?”

Gladio smirked yet again and reached out to boldly hook a finger around Ignis’s belt loops, tugging him forward. “Some fresh air and a night away from this place.” With no further explanation forthcoming, Gladio released his grip on Ignis and gestured for the smaller man to follow him towards the pedestrian exit to the garage.

As they passed the Citadel’s gates Ignis took a deep, cleansing breath. The evening air was cool and crisp, tinged with the sweetness of springtime. He seldom had the opportunity to sample it. He spent most of his time indoors, either in the Citadel or Noct’s apartment. It had been some time since he and Gladio had last ventured out for a post-training meal, Ignis’s schedule simply hadn’t been forgiving enough. He hadn’t realized how starved for fresh air he had been until it filled his lungs with that satisfying burn

Gladio looked down at him with a knowing smirk. Ignis could practically see the larger man swallowing back some smug comment about Ignis needing to get out more. Instead the Shield cast his honeyed gaze to the sky and sighed. “I really like this time of day. The sky always looks different every night, y’know?”

Ignis shifted his gaze upwards as well as the two began making their way along the main avenue leading out of the Citadel. Tall buildings framed his view of the Insomnian sky at twilight, but the patch of the heavens that he could see was indeed lovely, a dull orange canvas with streaks of dusky pink that darkened and blended into the soft purples that hinted at the approaching night. He was well-versed in the physics behind the stunning vistas that sunrise and sunset conjured, but that didn’t stop him from appreciating a particularly striking view. “Indeed,” he murmured in a soft voice, almost too soft to be heard above the bustle of the city around them. “And as lovely as it is, we’ll never see quite the same sky again. Every night is a new dance between atmospheric gasses and particles of light scattering.”

Gladio chuckled and looked back down at him. “Guess we’ll need to make this a more regular thing. Be a shame to miss all of these once-in-a-lifetime sunsets.”

Ignis felt his lips twitch merrily. “I am ever at your command.”

The pair approached an intersection, and Ignis felt the gentle warmth of Gladio’s hand pressed into the small of his back, signalling him with a touch to take a left-hand turn. Ignis felt a thrill of delight jolt down his spine when he realized that Gladio wasn’t letting go of him. They walked along in an easy silence, with Ignis drinking in the rosy glow of the city at night, the sweet spring air, and the comfort of Gladio’s hand on his back.  The streets were still fairly crowded with people heading home or heading out for an evening of fun in the city that lived up to its name and never truly slept. Every so often they would pass someone dressed in the livery of the Citadel and Gladio would lift his free hand in a wave, but never relinquished his possessive, protective touch against Ignis.

“Hey,” Gladio broke their comfortable silence after a few minutes. “I’ve bene thinking, and yeah I know, that’s dangerous, blah blah-“ Ignis snorted with surprised laughter. “but is it possible for you to sync your schedule to my calendar? It’d make it a lot easier to figure out when we have time to hang out.”

Ignis hummed thoughtfully. “Mhm, I can do that when we get back. Your Crownsguard email address?”

“Yep. Awesome, thanks Specky.”

They continued along for a few more blocks, with Ignis still unsure where they were going. This part of the city was home to numerous galleries, cafes, boutiques, even a modestly-sized park. They were still in the shadow of the Citadel and this area tended towards the more austere and upscale end of the spectrum.  Eventually they came upon the park and Gladio pushed against Ignis’s hip, steering him towards the opening in the flowering hedge that would admit them.

The park was longer than it was wide, spanning the length of several city blocks. Lush trees and hedges lined its borders as if to fend off the skyscrapers of civilization looming over its borders. Ignis could see the upper storeys of nearby buildings above the tree line. Numerous pathways ran the perimeter of the park, and even more criss-crossed it, converging at the central plaza where he knew that a majestic fountain of Leviathan stood. Although he couldn’t see them from where he and Gladio were, there were too many trees and the paths were too winding, he knew that the park also laid claim to a generous scattering of benches, gazebos, and flower gardens. In the evening select trees and hedges were adorned with twinkling lights to fend off the darkness. It was a popular place for those looking to escape the concrete and glass jungle of the main city.

“I’ve always wanted to come here,” Ignis mused thoughtfully.

“Never been?” Gladio’s gruff voice carried to him easily over the chatter of the crowd and the cries of street vendors trying to hawk their wares before shutting down for the night.

“No, Noct and I were always expected to use the palace gardens when we needed fresh air and greenery.

Gladio snorted and shook his head, and the hand that had been pressed soothingly to Ignis’s lower back shifted upwards as a strong arm was slung about his shoulders instead. “You’re gonna love it. Lemme show you my favourite bit. We’re just in time.”

Ignis murmured wordless assent. His senses were overwhelmed and he felt a tad dizzy at having Gladio’s arm around him in a public place. A faint buzzing in his ears had developed and threatened to drown out the Shield’s future words. Ignis bit the inside of his cheek and willed himself to get a grip. He and Gladio had hung out before their new arrangement, this was no different. Although, as his mind whipped through their previous outings, he couldn’t ever recall so much casual touching from the older man. A small, secretive smile played about his lips at that realization and he filed that tidbit away for future contemplation.

Gladio lead Ignis in the direction of one of the smaller, narrower pathways that lead into the depths of the park. Before they could veer down it, though, he stopped at one of the still open vendors. It was a small cart with a jaunty little blue and red striped umbrella over it. Ignis peered curiously at its contents: ice, dispensers containing violently neon liquids, and what looked to be an industrial mixer. “Slushies!” Gladio explained with child-like enthusiasm. “Got a fave? My treat.”

Ignis blinked and shook his head slowly, unsure what flavour to even call things like neon blue or acid green. Was this even food?

Ignis was too distracted by the way that Gladio’s fingers were idly rubbing the back of his neck to hear what he ordered, but he saw the vendor hand over two clear plastic cups with built-in straws, one being the violently blue flavour and the other a deep pinkish red. The Shield handed the blue concoction to Ignis, keeping the pink for himself. “That one’s the best, trust me. If you’ve never had a sushie before you gotta start with the blue ulwaat berry kind.”

Ignis’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Ulwaat berries aren’t blue, Gladiolus…”

The Shield just laughed and started slurping at his drink.

Ignis didn’t want to be impolite, and he was reasonably sure that Gladio wouldn’t poison him. For all of his brashness he treated his body like a temple, so these slush things must be acceptable as an occasional treat.  “Bottoms up,” he offered with more cheer than he expected, and took a drink.

It definitely tasted like blue, and apparently Ignis liked the flavour blue.

Gladio lead him along the cobbled path, winding through the trees and flowering bushes. As the sky above them darkened to a dusky purple some of the lights strung amongst the tree boughs turned on, illuminating the path in a warm golden glow. Gladio kept up an easy flow of conversation while they drank (or in Gladio’s case slurped) their slushies. Gladio discussed some of the novels he’d read recently, told funny stories about some of the clumsier new recruits, and Ignis responded in kind, recounting the time one of the clerks had put the ink cartridge into the printer the wrong way, which somehow resulted in the ink exploding, coating everything within ten feet of the printer in black goop, including both Ignis and the clerk.

After about ten minutes of walking, laughing, talking and slurping, Ignis began to shiver. Gladio broke off in the middle of his review of the cinematic adaptation of his favourite book to give Ignis a critical look. “You okay?”

Ignis looked down at his empty cup, a guilty half-smile tugging his lips. The evening was perfectly warm, he had just consumed a bit too much of the blue concoction a bit too quickly, he could feel the ice constricting his chest, chilling him from the inside. “Yes. I’m fine.” He felt the other man shifting beside him as if shrugging his massive shoulders, and he scowled. “Gladiolus Amicitia, so help me, if you are about to give me your jacket-“

“What if I am?” His voice was both a challenge and a plea.

“I am not above brawling in public.”

The Shield hooted with laughter and slapped a firm hand against Ignis’s back. “Okay okay, please don’t hurt me.” Ignis saw out of the corner of his eye as Gladio shrugged back into his jacket which had indeed been halfway to being slung around Ignis’s torso.

A few minutes after their barely-averted brawl Gladio tucked Ignis a bit more firmly under his arm, and lead him off of the path, over an expanse of open lawn that lead towards a small man-made pond. The lights of the main path illuminated the area just enough for Ignis to see where he was putting his feet, but not much else. Gladio navigated them around flowerbeds and little rock formations that were artfully crafted to look as if they hadn’t been crafted at all. They stopped a short distance from the edge of the pond, and Gladio set down his little duffel bag.  Ignis watched with mild curiosity as the Shield unpacked a thick blanket that appeared blue in the dying light but really could have been any colour for all Ignis could tell. With a showy little flourish the elder spread the blanket out over the soft grass.

“Figured you wouldn’t want to get your good pants dirty.” Gladio smirked, gesturing at the blanket, inviting Ignis to settle first. “On your stomach, unless you’re feeling 100% again.”

“Very considerate, thank you.” The Advisor set his empty cup aside, resolving to dispose of it when they came across a trash can. He stepped politely out of his shoes before lowering himself onto his front, his chin resting upon crossed arms, facing the little pond. It was extremely comfortable; the grass was long and soft and the blanket was made of a soft plush wool. It felt very much like laying atop a bed. The blanket tugged beneath him a bit as Gladio settled down beside him, the larger man opting to sit cross-legged, also facing the pond.

“Might be a few more minutes, it’s still a bit light out,” the Shield rumbled, gesturing to the violet sky that was reflected in the glassy surface of the pond.

“Until what, exactly?” Ignis stretched his long limbs, getting comfortable if they were going to be there for some time.

“You’ll see,” was the only answer.

While they waited for whatever was going to happen they continued their pleasant stream of conversation. Gladio asked Ignis if he could explain how sunsets worked and Ignis happily obliged, broadly explaining how the light spectrum worked, how light is absorbed or transmitted, and how the gasses in the atmosphere scatter those light particles. Gladio began absently carding his fingers through Ignis’s tawny hair. Blunt nails scritched at his scalp, sending waves of relaxing calm straight through Ignis. He couldn’t quite swallow back his contented sigh. “If you’re going to do this while we wait I hope it stays light forever.”

Gladio chuckled, then mussed Ignis’s hair playfully before removing his hand. Disappointment swelled in his chest, and he wished bitterly that he’d kept quiet. Gladio had probably been doing it unconsciously, not meaning to show Ignis so much affection in public when their relationship was one usually reserved for private rooms. Or so he thought, until he felt the familiar, comforting touch of Gladio’s hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing soothing circles into the tense muscles there, with enough pressure for Ignis to really feel it through his dress shirt and vest. Ignis melted at the touch, and somehow sank even deeper into the softness of the blanket.

Encouraged by the Advisor’s satisfied sigh and the way he went happily limp, Gladio shifted so that he could reach Ignis’s back with both hands. He pressed both palms flat to the center of his back and then slowly, firmly rubbed wide circles over the tight muscles, working his way out towards Ignis’s sides. Tired muscles began to slowly warm up and loosen, and more sighs fell from Ignis’s lips without much effort on his part to silence himself. Gladio just smiled, and slowly worked his hands up and down, gently loosening Ignis form his shoulders to the small of his back.

After several blissful minutes most of Ignis’s back was warm and tingling with the unfamiliar sensation of the massage. He imagined that the Shield had finished his work until Ignis felt Gladio press his thumbs into a knot of tension that always seemed to sit right between his shoulders. It felt wonderful, the Shield knew just how to apply enough pressure to untangle the knots without making it hurt too much, and he was quick to rub gentle circles with his large, warm palms over the spot, soothing away any residual ache. He repeated the same tender ministrations across Ignis’s shoulders and along the curves of his neck where the fiercest knots still dwelt.

“Try to breathe deeply, yeah?” Gladio encouraged as his fingers found the truly vicious knots in Ignis’s neck. “I don’t want this to hurt.”

Ignis obediently followed orders, drawing in slow, deep lungfuls of the clean evening air while Gladio’s fingers began dancing over the curve of his neck, probing the taut muscles there with firm, small circles designed to loosen them as much as possible without having to apply much force.

“Not complaining, but you don’t need to. I was only teasing before.”

The Shield shushed him. “I want to.”

They remained like that for some time, Ignis stretched languidly beside Gladio while the latter carefully rubbed at his neck and shoulders, and then eventually began rubbing slow, lazy circles all across the plains of his back again. He had gotten out as much tension as he could given the circumstances and was just concentrating on being warm and soothing, biding their time until whatever it was that Gladio was waiting for.

They had perhaps been there by the pond for half an hour before Gladio’s gleeful “Ah ha!” broke the silence.

“What is it?” Ignis mumbled, face buried in his folded arms by then.

“Look at the pond.”

Ignis lifted his head, peering through the darkness at the little pond. He could just make out what Gladio was referring to, but moment by moment the effect intensified. Little pinpoints of light were hovering and fluttering around the edges of the pond, just above the little yellow and white flowers that dotted the landscape there.  “Are those fireflies?” the Advisor asked in wonderment.

“Yup. They like the water, and those flowers. There’ll be loads more of them soon.”

Ignis smiled and watched as the little scattered pinpricks of light did begin to swell in numbers until it looked like the entire area was sparkling. It looked like something out of a fairy tale. Ignis half expected a mythical fairy queen to arise from the pond to bequeath them with a magical artifact of some sort.

“They’re beautiful,” Ignis whispered, as if fearful that loud noises would frighten the creatures into fleeing and taking their ethereal light with them.

“Yeah. They come out in force after dark, in the early spring. Found them by accident a few years ago.” Gladio’s voice was also soft and husky with the same dreamy wonderment that Ignis felt. The Advisor tore his awestruck gaze from the little lights that danced amongst the flowers for a moment, just long enough to sweep his gaze up over Gladio’s features. The Shield had this utterly endearing smile on his face, peaceful and serene. It was an expression that Ignis committed to memory and resolved to see replicated as often as possible.

They stayed there for quite awhile, each man lost in his own pleasant thoughts while the fireflies flitted amongst the flowers, their faint light reflecting over the mirrored surface of the pond. The flowers which Ignis hadn’t even noticed when they first arrived were elevated to something brilliant once touched by the fireflies’ radiance. A private smile settled itself on Ignis’s lips as he considered how lucky those flowers were, and how lucky he himself was to have his own personal firefly seated beside him.

Neither man wanted to speak for fear of breaking the spell that seemed to have been cast over their quiet little corner of the city. Eventually, though, the evening air grew cool, and Gladio’s caressing fingertips discovered the goosebumps raised along the back of Ignis’s neck. He rumbled a soft little chuckle before bending down over his slender companion, brushing a kiss to the back of Ignis’s head. “Time to go, pet.”

Ignis huffed a sigh. He had gone delightfully boneless between the massage, the tranquility of the evening, and the warmth of Gladio’s presence. “Yes Sir,” he pushed himself up to his knees. Gladio was quick to sweep an arm around him then, pulling Ignis against his chest before he had a chance to stand. Gladio’s full, chapped lips were pressed to his temple, then cheek, trailing kissing across Ignis’s blissfully smiling features until their lips met.

Not for the first time that day Ignis melted into Gladio. It was a fairly chaste kiss by Gladio’s standards, all closed-lipped and soft. He sucked Ignis’s lower lip gently, as if savouring the taste, and wrapped both arms around him, ensnaring the Advisor in the comforting warmth of his arms. When Gladio eventually broke the lazy kiss he kept their faces together, brow to brow, the tips of their noses brushing together. Ignis could see, even in the darkness, every tiny nuance of the Shield’s features. The way his eyes sparkled with unreserved fondness, the unabashed smile that gave Ignis a rare glimpse of his dimple. It was impossible even for the woefully naïve Advisor to miss the genuine affection that was on display in Gladio’s expression as he spoke. “Thank you, Ignis.”

Confusion flickered in warm teal eyes and Gladio rubbed his nose against Ignis’s in a distinctly affectionate gesture. “Thank you for being you. I haven’t felt like I could share this place with anyone else ‘til now.”

Ignis’s face felt hot despite the delicate chill infusing the evening air. “Really?”

“Really.” Gladio chuckled. “I’m not sure if you’ve met many other members of the Crownsguard but they’re not much for appreciating nature or discussing literature, or sunsets, or really anything that they can’t fight or fuck.”

“Huh.” Ignis responded in an uncharacteristic display of inarticulation.

“I know what I’m talking about when I tell you how wonderful you are, you know. You really gotta do a better job at believing me.”

“I think,” the young strategist began tentatively, “that I am finally beginning to.” He leaned in, his turn to steal a soft kiss. “Thank you, Gladio. Thank you, Sir.”

“Always my pleasure.” With that the Shield pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand down to Ignis to help him up. “And I’m not done yet.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Ignis is reminded that he's sexy as fuck.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ignis finally gets his act together.

As Ignis and Gladio retraced their steps out of the park and back to the pleasant bustle of the city streets at night, Gladio kept one strong arm firmly wrapped around Ignis’s back. The elder would occasionally stroke Ignis’s side, each time sending a thrill through him. He sighed contentedly, which only caused the Shield to chuckle and hug him even tighter to his side.

They rounded a familiar corner and were once more strolling along the main avenue leading to the Citadel. Ignis was acutely aware of the many windows above them, glowing jewel-bright against the night sky. The closer to the towers they came, the more likely they were to come across someone from the Citadel on the street, or be spied out a window by curious eyes. For Ignis’s part he was more than happy to be seen snuggled to the Shield’s side. For all of his decorum and propriety and obsession with duty there was a tiny part of Ignis’s soul that had succumbed to vanity, and that part of him revelled in being seen at Gladio’s side.

“Is this okay?” Ignis finally asked, gesturing vaguely at the way their bodies seemed to be joined at the hip.

“It is for me, yeah. If you’re worried about your rep I’ll back off, though.” Ignis searched, but couldn’t detect any ire in the other man’s voice, just a touch of sincere concern for Ignis’s comfort levels.

“No, I’m fine, Sir.” Ignis tilted his chin up, his smile on full display beneath the glow of the nearest streetlight.

“Good,” Gladio gave his side a playful little poke. “Since I can’t very well have you crawling on all fours after me in public, this is the best way I got to show that you’re mine.”

“My knees thank you for that consideration,” Ignis managed to quip dryly while his brain furiously turned Gladio’s words over and over again. He couldn’t lie to himself, the thought of crawling along behind Gladio, perhaps on a leash, was deviant, terrifying, and—according to the sudden state of affairs in his pants-- quite arousing.

Ignis subtly hastened his steps, wanting to get back to his quarters quickly. He didn’t know if he could trust himself in public with the walking mass of perfection next to him for much longer.

* * *

The Shield pressed Ignis back against the door as soon as it had been closed behind them. Gladio planted his palms against the doorframe to either side of Ignis’s head, effectively caging him in. The Advisor’s cock twitched appreciatively at the rough treatment, and the sudden and utter possessiveness of the other man’s demeanour. The larger man leaned forward slightly, bringing his ruggedly handsome features level with Ignis’s, and he could feel the warmth of his breath when he spoke. It tickled.

“I hope that I did an okay job at showing you how much I really do fucking enjoy your company, pet. You’re amazing.” Gladio’s amber eyes were locked onto Ignis’s, and there was no mistaking the sincerity and Gods-be-praised actual affection there. A kiss was pressed to Ignis’s brow, just above the metal frames of his glasses. “You have a huge sexy brain,” Gladio rumbled down at him, and his full lips were enriched by a smile. Ignis blushed modestly, even though he bloody well knew that already. Gladio smirked at him, and drew one of his hands down from the doorframe to lay a palm across Ignis’s chest, and his voice grew both softer and deeper. “Even bigger heart, though.”

Gladio was kissing him then, cutting off any protests, any arguments from Ignis regarding the quality of his character. There was such an abundance of passion, adoration, and utter reverence in Gladio’s kiss that it broke through Ignis’s multi-layered defenses. The neuroses that he had worn like a suit of armor for his entire life cracked and fell away, the walls that he had erected around his very soul were dismantled brick by brick. His doubts and self-deprecations melted away beneath the heat of the other man’s kiss, and somehow the stubborn part of Ignis’s soul that had refused to believe that he could be wanted and loved withered away and died, incinerated by the heat that was Gladio’s affection.

Ignis hadn’t realized that he had begun sobbing into the kiss until Gladio was there, plush lips nuzzling away the tear tracks. By the mercy of the Astrals the Advisor was also smiling more broad and bright than he’d ever had before, which was enough to assure the elder that his pet was okay. More than okay. These were happy tears.

“You finally get it now, huh?” Gladio brushed the tip of his nose against Ignis’s. It tickled, but was frankly adorable, so the brunette forgave him.

Breathless, Ignis parted kiss-swollen lips, trying unsuccessfully several times before finally he found his voice. “Yes Sir.”

“Good,” Gladio growled, and brought strong arms around Ignis’s lithe frame, pressing him into a rib-aching embrace. “Still ain’t done with you yet, though.”

Ignis’s face was pressed into the expanse of the Shield’s chest, muffling his voice. “No?”

“Uh uh,” the Shield pressed his chin into Ignis’s hair, his voice seemed to rain down over him from upon high. “I’m having way too much fun on the Ignis Scientia Appreciation Train. Ain’t no stoppin’ it now.” A happy laugh bubbled up from deep within Ignis.

Gladio stepped back, giving the flushed strategist a moment to breathe, and Ignis noted the way his honeyed gaze flicked across him, assessing him, probably making sure that Ignis really was okay and that the tears that cast a glassy sheen across his eyes were still wrought from joy. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, the Shield growled and closed the distance between them again.

“Time to appreciate that outer beauty of yours, little pet. Fuck, for as stunning as you are on the inside, your outside is pretty fucking spectacular, too.” Gladio’s mouth was on his again, a fierce kiss that stole Ignis’s breath away and cast a shroud over his other senses. The Shield’s tongue was hot and insistent against his lips, and Ignis was eager to grant him entry, lips parting to deepen the kiss until it was difficult to tell where he ended and Gladio began.

Without breaking the kiss Gladio reached down, thick fingers surprisingly dexterous as he worked at the buttons of Ignis’s waistcoat. The black material parted easily, and the larger man made quick work of the buttons of Ignis’s dress shirt as well. Ignis moaned into the kiss when he felt the crisp linen part and fall away to bare his chest. An answering moan was torn from Gladio’s throat and the Shield wasted little time in pressing calloused palms into Ignis’s chest.

Finally Gladio slid his lips from Ignis’s, letting them both draw in great gasping breaths. The Shield was flushed, sweat glistening across his brow, something Ignis had seldom even witnessed in the training hall. It was beyond erotic, and he committed himself to devising ways to bring his partner to this state as often as possible.

“You’re so gorgeous, pet.” Gladio’s voice was raspy and rough, and it was like he was touching Ignis’s dick with it. It throbbed wantonly with every syllable that fell from those full, kissable, perfect lips. Ignis could only moan in response, not trusting himself to speak, he was fairly certain that his vocabulary had been reduced to animal grunts and possibly obscenities.

A smirk tugged at Gladio’s features, a knowing, self-satisfied smirk. It was the smirk of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and was getting it. “Just so that we’re abso-fucking-lutely clear, I’m gonna show you exactly how gorgeous you are.” Ignis nodded, hazy teal eyes meeting warm amber. The strategist was brought up short for a moment. There was something in the other man’s eyes. His pupils were blown with arousal and bright with warmth and affection, but there was something else. A lazy quality, an unhurried air. Gladio’s gaze promised pleasure and lust, but he intended to take his time, to savour every inch of the man before him.

Gentle hands slowly slid the open vest and dress shirt down Ignis’s arms before the garments were tossed into a messy heap in a corner. Ignis didn’t care. His glasses were removed next, laid on a nearby table instead of stowed in their case. Ignis didn’t care.

Gladio lifted a finger and fixed the Advisor with an approximation of a stern glare. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Teal eyes tracked Gladio’s progress until he disappeared into Ignis’s bedroom. A tawny brow quirked, his curiosity piqued. He strained but couldn’t hear what the other man was doing, not with the way his heartbeat was thundering in his ears. Had his pulse always been so damned loud?

A few moments later the Shield returned. He’d divested himself of his track jacket and tank, and Ignis couldn’t deny how sinful the man looked in just his track pants and boots. Gladio had muscles on top of muscles and he was pretty sure he had muscles that medical science hadn’t named yet.

“Nice view?” A playful grin brightened Gladio’s entire face.

“The best.” Ignis breathed, too honest for his own good. Gladio’s ego knew no bounds and Ignis was not helping. Yet one more thing that he just could not bring himself to care about.

“Mmm well you can look, but no touching.” The grin melted into a smirk, an expression that was so at home on the other man’s face. In response to Ignis’s arched brow Gladio held up the small bundle that Ignis hadn’t even noticed, he’d been too distracted by the view of rippling muscles and swaying hips. Gladio was holding what appeared to be two of his best ties.

Before Ignis could fully register what was happening, Gladio had manhandled him into position. He’d been dragged a few feet to the right, where a row of hooks were embedded in the wall near the door an inch above Ignis’s head. Every set of Citadel apartments had these hooks. Ignis never used his and barely noticed them. He preferred to hang his jackets and other gear on proper hangers in the closet. Apparently these hooks had a use to the Advisor after all. It was Ignis’s turn to smirk as he was pulled into place, bound by each wrist to the hooks at the far ends of the row, a few inches wider than shoulder-width apart.

As far as bondage went, Ignis imagined that this was a rather tame setup. His wrists were bound to the hooks in such a manner that he could actually grasp hold of the hook to steady himself if needed, which was unlikely to be necessary. His arms were not being stretched in either direction; it was a pose that one might adopt casually and comfortably. He wasn’t even holding any of his weight in his arms.

Gladio began by carding strong fingers through Ignis’s soft tawny hair with a gentleness that belied the other man’s strength. Ignis sighed as calloused fingertips traced the shell of his ear, brushing back the longer strands of hair that feathered against his ears. “I love your hair,” Gladio’s voice was a deep rumble, quiet, but with an intensity that leant weight to his words. “Especially the long bits around your ears. So soft and perfect.” Ignis whimpered at the attentions, Gladio’s touch was treading that fine line between being soothing and being a tickle.

Mercifully the Shield moved on, fingertips moving to trace the elegant lines of Ignis’s cheekbones and jaw. “Your face belongs in a fucking museum. You’re like a living statue.” With a soft sigh of pleasure Gladio leaned in, peppering kisses across Ignis’s cheekbones and down the curve of his jaw, his lips echoing the worship of his fingers. “I could cut myself on these cheekbones, Gods.” Gladio’s breath was hot against his neck, Ignis shivered with every word.

The Shield worked his way languidly down Ignis’s body, first caressing the younger man’s flesh with fingertips, blunt nails leaving faint pink lines in their wake, sending goosebumps prickling all over Ignis’s body. Gladio always followed with a hot mouth, lavishing kisses and licks along teased skin. He spent a positively sinful amount of time at the Advisor’s chest, full lips capturing a dusky nipple and threatening to never let go, Gladio sucked on the little nubs until they were achingly hard and a series of wanton moans were torn from Ignis’s throat, his cock twitching enviously.

The larger man eased to his knees before Ignis in a rather charming reversal of their customary positions, to more easily lavish attention across Ignis’s stomach. A hiss fell from the chamberlain’s lips when Gladio flicked his tongue out, tracing the delicate lines of his abs which were finally showing some decent definition after so much hard work in the training hall. Gladio pressed wet open-mouthed kisses to each little ridge of musculature while large hands snaked down to clasp Ignis’s hips, thumbs caressing lazy circles around the little jutting of bones. A moan of appreciation fell from the Shield’s lips and he pressed his cheek against Ignis’s abs, the scruff of his beard tickled the taut flesh. “Oh pet, taking your shirt off is like unwrapping a present. Your body is fucking sinful, do you even know that?” More kisses, hot and wet were pressed to Ignis, over his stomach, hips, ribs, everywhere that Gladio could reach. He felt the slight sting of teeth grazing his hip and he cried out before he could even consider biting back the wanton noise.  Seemingly encouraged, Gladio growled and repeated the gesture to Ignis’s other hip, raking his teeth over the sharp curve and then biting down a bit more firmly, more possessively.

Ignis was breathless with arousal. His head buzzed with white noise. His world was reduced to feelings. The feeling of the cold wall against his back, soft silk wrapped around his wrists, his body flushed yet shivering, over-stimulated under the careful ministration of fingers, lips, tongue, teeth, all designed to infuse Ignis with an overwhelming feeling of being desired, admired, and owned.  Gasping Ignis began babbling, not fully aware of what he was saying, but desperately needing to unleash some of the maelstrom that Gladio had stirred up in him. “Oh Gods, Sir. Thank you. It’s because of you. I really am yours.”

A pleased growl rolled through Gladio and without warning the elder had his lips pressed to the smoother, more tender flesh right above his waistband, sucking, biting, then sucking again. Ignis could feel his flesh turning purple. “Damn right,” the Shield grinned up at him before pressing his mouth to Ignis’s abused skin again, licking at the blossoming bruise, soothing the ache.

Ignis hummed in appreciation as Gladio’s deft fingers popped the buttons of his fly and smoothly eased his trousers down. There was an adorable moment as the Shield realized Ignis hadn’t had time to remove his shoes before he’d been delightfully manhandled, and so he had to slip off his shoes and socks, which clattered noisily into a corner somewhere. His trousers and briefs followed mere seconds later.

As if making up for lost time, Gladio renewed his appreciation of Ignis’s body with new fervor. He kissed, licked and caressed his way down toned thighs, over the strong curves of his calves. He even lingered at the soft skin behind Ignis’s knees that he hadn’t even known was so sensitive until suddenly there was a tongue there, and Ignis was screaming with pleasure and over-stimulation.

Ignis’s legs began trembling, weak-kneed from Gladio’s attentions. This wasn’t the first time that the Shield had licked and touched at him, but where those previous encounters had been about exploration and learning how Ignis reacted, this was pure unabashed worship. This was Gladio’s way of showing him all of the little bits of Ignis that he lusted after, and evidently he lusted after pretty much all of his bits, from the tips of his ears to the soles of his feet. Nothing escaped Gladio’s notice and attention.  The parts that he couldn’t reach with his mouth he ran greedy palms over, namely his back and ass. All the while Gladio kept up a regular flow of compliments, marvelling at how soft Ignis was here, how nice and tight there, how cute this dimple was or how hot some little freckle was.

By the time he was done Ignis was a wreck, trembling, sweating, and panting. He was reduced once more to communicating in grunts and moans. His dick was absolutely aching. The Shield had most conveniently lavished attention over every speck of his body except for that. Gladio straightened at last, a wolfish grin on his face as he took in the sight of his pet, looking thoroughly debauched with his hair mussed, skin flushed and gleaming with sweat. It didn’t seem to matter that he hadn’t been ravished—yet.

“Don’t worry, pet. I got you.”

Ignis whined, bloody well fucking whined, because he had lost the capacity for human speech. Gladio seemed to take his meaning well enough. With an even bigger grin than before he crouched down and in an impressive feat of athleticism, he braced his broad shoulders against Ignis’s thighs and scooped him up. Ignis was left dangling from the hooks by his wrists and was glad that he had the leeway to actually grip the hooks with his fingers after all. His legs were draped over Gladio’s shoulders, and the older man was crouched at such an angle that he was able to take virtually all of Ignis’s weight into the little clefts of his shoulders. He could feel the taut muscles of the Shield’s back rippling beneath his calves and he marveled for probably the thousandth time at the man’s brute strength.

“You have permission to come whenever. Just for tonight.” Gladio cooed up at him as he settled his hands against the small of Ignis’s back.

Ignis thought that this position felt oddly like floating. Then Gladio scooted him a bit higher onto his shoulders until he could mouth at his weeping cock. Ignis stopped thinking right around then.

If Gladio’s attentions had been languid and luxurious before, he was in a frenzy now. He took most of Ignis’s length into the inviting heat of his mouth, cradled upon a hot tongue, throat relaxed around him. There was no coy teasing, no tongue tracing the head, no cute little kisses. No, Gladio sucked Ignis’s cock with firm pressure, his mouth warm, wet, and inviting around him. He felt the tip brush the back of Gladio’s throat and the other man relaxed around him, welcoming him.

Ignis closed his eyes and lost what remained of his dignity, too awash in glorious sensation to care. His head tilted back, he cried out wordlessly as his cock pulsed and ached. He knew that copious amounts of precome was working its way down Gladio’s throat, mingling with the man’s saliva, adding to the delightful wetness that surrounded his cock.

His thighs trembled violently atop Gladio’s shoulders, his cock twitched fiercely. Gladio moaned in response and the vibrations shot through his member and right into Ignis’s gut.  Gladio’s mouth was suddenly everything, the world was reduced to a hot tongue, suction, the insides of Gladio’s cheeks pressed to his shaft, the little puffs of air that tickled his groin when Gladio sighed through his nose.

Gladio sucked him like a man possessed, like a man dying of a thirst that can only be sated by Ignis’s come. There was no way on Eos that the Advisor could withstand such a barrage of pleasure. He stiffened without warning and shot come down the back of Gladio’s throat. A guttural cry rasped from his lips and his lithe body jerked violently atop Gladio’s shoulders, but the giant of a man was unwavering as he held Ignis up and coaxed him through his orgasm with his own mouth.

Everything went white, and Ignis felt like he was going to drown in his own ecstasy. He did drown, in a manner of speaking. Some amount of time was just lost to him. One moment he was screaming and coming down Gladio’s willing tongue, and the next thing he knew he was no longer tied to the coat hooks and was being cradled in Gladio’s arms, both men sitting on the floor in a tangle of sweaty, trembling limbs, Ignis from the exertions of his release, and Gladio from the exertion of holding Ignis in such an awkward yet impressive position for so long.

Ignis met Gladio’s eyes and the two men shared a smile. Gladio smoothed back Ignis’s damp bangs to press a kiss to his brow. Ignis still felt slack jawed and stupefied with lust, and only managed a happy little sigh. Gladio chuckled quietly, burying his face in sandy hair. “Gods you’re fucking adorable when you’re like this. Way less sassy, too. I like it.”

Ignis snorted, face pressed into the crook of Gladio’s neck to very belatedly hide his blush. Gladio just laughed and rubbed his palms soothingly up and down Ignis’s back, rocking him gently in his lap, giving him time to pick up the pieces of his sanity.

After a few long minutes in which Ignis luxuriated in the pure bliss of just being held, he pulled back a bit, enough that he could look back up at Gladio and lock eyes with him.

“What about you, Sir?”

A bushy brow quirked. “What about me?”

Ignis drew his plush lower lip up with his teeth, gnawing on it thoughtfully. “It hardly seems fair that I get all of the pleasure.”

The Shield leaned in, claiming Ignis’s lips in a bruising kiss. “Who says I ain’t pleased?” A devilish grin tugged on his features as he fumbled for one of Ignis’s hands, clumsily tugging his hand down to cup his own groin where—oh Gods—Ignis could feel the wetness of Gladio’s own release through his pants. He had come in his gods-be-damned pants without Ignis even touching him. He stared at Gladio with wide teal eyes as realization crept up on him.

“You, I didn’t even have to?” Ignis shook his head, still a bit stupid with the aftereffects of his orgasm.

“See what you do to me, little pet?” Gladio’s voice was husky, deeper than he had ever heard it. It was like lava, or butter, or Gods he didn’t even know or care as long as Gladio kept talking to him like that. “You’re so fucking hot that I came just from touching you, from feeling you, seeing you. Fuck I can’t believe how much I lucked out. Karma is going to kick my ass for this someday, I fucking know it.”

Ignis laughed, and threw his arms brazenly around the larger man. “I know the feeling, Sir. I really do.” He sighed breathily, and let his chin rest on Gladio’s shoulder.

Strong arms encircled Ignis, surrounding him with warmth and security. Sweet nonsense was whispered into his ear as Gladio scooped him up and carted him off to the bedroom. “Last stop on the Iggy Appreciation Tour,” Gladio teased.

“What’s on the itinerary?” Ignis murmured, face buried against Gladio’s neck again. He decided that he liked it there, it smelled good, was soft. He liked it very much.

“Sleep.”

Ignis laughed as he was dumped unceremoniously onto the bed. Gladio paused long enough to finally take off his track pants and boots before joining him. This time they had enough energy to fetch the duvet from the foot of the bed and within moments they were both nestled beneath its warmth. Ignis swore on all of the Astrals that he did not need to sleep on his stomach, and Gladio let him curl up on his side. Ignis pressed his back into Gladio’s broad chest, and the larger men slid an arm protectively over him, anchoring him against himself. “This is where you belong,” Gladio mumbled sleepily.

The Shield had already begun snoring before Ignis had a chance to whisper out a “Yes Sir, I know.”

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which not much really happens, because poor Ignis needs to let some of this goodness sink in. Also his bum is still sore.

It was Saturday morning, and Ignis was not expected to fulfill any official duties until noon, when he was scheduled to arrive at Noct’s apartment to cook, clean, and brief the Prince on the upcoming week. Therefore, his alarm did not go off until the ripe hour of 7:00am. It was practically luxurious. It was apparently inadequate for Gladiolus’s tastes, however.

“I’m gonna stab your fucking alarm, I swear to the Six.” Gladio grumbled from somewhere behind Ignis, his broad frame wrapped securely around the lithe Advisor, making it actually rather difficult for him to toggle the little switch on his alarm clock.

“My apologies. At least it’s the weekend, we got to sleep in.”

“Seven o’ clock is still the ass crack of dawn, you dork.”

A chuckle fell from Ignis’s lips as he struggled into a sitting position. He’d been so bloody cozy, nestled in against Gladio’s large, warm body. Moving seemed like a crime. “Be that as it may, it is when I need to rise on the weekends. May I offer you some breakfast by way of apology, Sir?” Ignis’s insides felt light and fluttery, the emotional bliss of the previous evening lingered in him. For the first time in his fairly substantial memory he had awoken happy, relaxed, and at peace, and he could already see the impact that his metamorphosis was going to have on his daily drudgery. It no longer felt like drudgery, for starters.

“Mmm breakfast sounds good, pet.” Gladio groaned, seemingly as resistant to movement as Ignis had been. “You do that and I’m gonna borrow your shower.” With an almighty sigh the Shield heaved himself into a sitting position beside Ignis, and leaned in to press a kiss into the smaller man’s temple before he finally slid himself off of Ignis’s bed.

Gladio was perhaps halfway across the room before Ignis thought to ask, “Sir? Is it okay if I put something on while I cook?” Cheeks dusted a soft pink, he gestured feebly at his naked condition. As comfortable as he was becoming around Gladio with his body, he was significantly less comfortable letting it all dangle out in the kitchen.

A low chuckle rumbled from the Shield as he cast a speculative gaze over Ignis. The man was clearly weighing how much he liked to see Ignis naked against Ignis’s comfort. Thankfully the Shield had some measure of compassion left in him that hadn’t been used up on Ignis the previous day. “Okay little pet. Just don’t abuse the privilege.” He continued toward the bathroom, pausing to call over the sculpted curve of a broad shoulder. “I better not come out and find you in five different layers of shit.”

“Yes Sir, I wouldn’t dare.” Ignis forced a somber expression to his face, before letting the severe look dissolve into a giddy little grin once the Shield was safely sequestered in the bathroom.

Ignis moved to crouch before his dresser, as he kept his sleepwear in the bottom drawer. He had intended to grab a pair of sleep pants, but he found himself digging Gladio’s old, once-borrowed sweats. A smirk teased his lips and he quickly slid long legs into them before padding barefoot into the kitchen.

The absolute first order of business any morning was coffee. His precious Ebony was the only thing that kept him going and kept him civil some mornings. That particular morning he was still basking in the residual bliss of the previous day, but old habits die very hard. He started a generous pot, nimble fingers moving deftly along the controls, pure muscle memory at this point.  The second order of business was of course breakfast.

Ignis could hear the distant thrumming of his shower, and could imagine the way the warm spray would strike and bounce off of Gladio’s muscular body. He could see in his mind’s eye the way beads of water would trickle down his chest, following the dips and deep cut lines of the other man’s muscles.  The Advisor groaned softly and was incredibly grateful that the Shield had acquiesced to his request for clothing. Cooking with his cock suddenly at half-mast would be downright dangerous.

With monumental effort Ignis pushed aside thoughts of the beautiful specimen of a man currently naked in his shower, and instead focused on serving that spectacular man a fitting breakfast. He gathered eggs, peppers, onions and some leftover anak meat and began whipping up omelettes for them. He opted to make them Duscae-style, blending the diced meat and vegetables right into the frothy whipped eggs before pouring the mixture onto the skillet. This method required less work and supervision, and allowed Ignis the freedom to abandon his post in the kitchen long enough to dart about his quarters, gathering up the clothing and his spectacles which had been strewn about the previous evening. His own clothing was tucked into the hamper, while Gladio’s was laid across his bed for the other man to find.  He had just enough time to grab his phone and sync his calendar with Gladio as the other had requested before he had to return to the kitchen. He allowed himself a moment of pride at how much he had accomplished in the space of about two minutes, without so much as a drop of Ebony in his system yet.

Just as Ignis was settled back in the kitchen again to flip the omelettes, the plumbing rattled and then went quiet, signalling the end to Gladio’s shower. Ignis ached to linger by the bathroom to catch a glimpse of the Shield dripping and towel-clad, but their breakfast would definitely burn if he indulged himself.  Studiously Ignis poured them each a cup of Ebony and dished out the omelettes – Gladio’s portion being significantly larger in consideration of his size.

In a further display of exceptional timing, Ignis set Gladio’s breakfast on the table just as the man himself walked into the room, his handsomely straight nose twitching in appreciation at the aroma.

“I could get used to this.” Chair legs scraped across the marble tiles as the Shield settled himself. “Also, those my pants?” A heavy brow quirked in amusement.

Ignis felt the heat rise in his cheeks but he gallantly soldiered on. “Oh these old things? They’re my favourite sleep pants, Sir.”

Something warm and beautiful sparked in the depths of Gladio’s eyes as he drank in the sight of Ignis in the Shield’s old pants, which hung scandalously low on his narrow hips. “Fuck that’s hot.”

Ignis chuckled as he gathered up his own breakfast. “I’m sure the original owner did the look more justice than myself, but I do thank you, Sir.” Still grinning, he moved to kneel near Gladio, his plate and mug laid carefully on the tiles. He had almost but not quite forgotten that the table and chairs were not on his list of furniture that he had carte blanche permission to use.

Warm amber eyes tracked Ignis as he knelt down to eat his own breakfast. The Shield swallowed a mouthful of egg and murmured. “Fuck that’s hot, too. I could get used to this view in the morning.”

“Breakfast is it 6:00am through the week. You’re always welcome, Sir.”

“Fucking savage.”

Ignis chuckled into his Ebony as he lifted the mug for a long drink.

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they ate, the only sounds being the dull scrape of cutlery against Ignis’s good china, and the little satisfied moans that fell so easily from Gladio’s lips when he took a bite.  Ignis felt a wave of contentment wash over him. It felt good, really bloody good to serve Gladio. Admittedly his knees weren’t thrilled with the prospect of cold marble tiles first thing in the morning but otherwise, really, it was a glorious position to be in. He felt small knelt there beside the other man who ate his breakfast from the most lofty position of a kitchen chair. He felt small but safe, probably the way an actual pet felt at his master’s feet. It made Ignis long to curl up under Gladio’s chair and stay there forever.

Eventually their plates and mugs were picked clean. Ignis unfurled with his customary poise and began tidying up, while Gladio pulled his phone out of his pocket and began fiddling.

“Excellent, I got your schedule. Thanks.”

“Of course, Sir.” Ignis smiled from his place at the sink where he was setting their dishes to soak in hot, soapy water.

“Shiva’s tits,” Gladio breathed, amber eyes flicking side to side, still studying his phone intently. “When do you find time to take a shit? Your schedule is fucking ridiculous.”

“Language,” Ignis chided, tacking on a quiet “Sir” before Gladio’s look could turn too murderous.

He knew that his schedule was a little on the full side. Ignis was organized to a fault, and that meant that he accounted for virtually every waking moment in his schedule.  He had colour-coded entries in place for Council meetings, training, briefings, lessons, chauffeuring and tending to Noctis, etc. He also had the time between appointments marked off as well, things like “write executive summaries”, or “read reports X-Z”. It was the only way that he could be sure to fulfill all of his supplemental duties without letting anything fall by the wayside. It did, regrettably, leave his schedule absolutely packed with no time set aside for things such as lunch or personal errands, or as Gladio so eloquently phrased it, taking a shit.

Gladio was still squinting at his phone. “So if I’ve got this right, you’re dealing with Prince Charmless this afternoon, and this morning you have some to-do list?”

Ignis nodded, pausing to dry his hands on a tea towel before moving to once more kneel near the Shield, basking in the other man’s presence while he had a chance. “Yes Sir. I typically don’t have any official duties on Saturday mornings, so I use the time to do my own errands, and any errands for Noctis that come up. That’s why we got to sleep in so late today.” He smirked, knowing perfectly well what Gladio had thought of their 7:00am wake up.  “I update the to-do list through the week. If you tap on it, the document should open, if you were curious.”

Gladio’s brows shot upwards, and threatened to disappear into his hairline. The list was particularly long this week, Ignis knew.  Groceries for himself and Noctis, dry cleaning to pick up, a trip to the market, library books to return, a birthday gift to buy for his uncle to buy, and on and on.

“Shit. I guess I’d better let you get to it, huh.”

“As much as I am thoroughly enjoying myself, languishing at your feet, yes.” Ignis peered up at the Shield, sea green eyes shining with warmth. He meant that, truly, and hoped that the soft smile playing about his lips conveyed as much.

Gladio rose, pausing to ruffle Ignis’s hair fondly. “Thanks, little pet. For everything.” He stooped, pressing chapped lips to Ignis’s brow in an affectionate kiss. “I’ll see you soon yeah?”

* * *

 

For the next few days Ignis did not see as much of the Shield as he had perhaps expected, or hoped. He didn’t know if Gladio was daunted by Ignis’s schedule, or if he was simply giving the younger man room to breathe and process everything that had happened recently. He strongly suspected the latter, that was simply how Gladio was. He had a remarkably intuitive way with people, and always seemed to know just how to handle them. Particularly Ignis.  He had so masterfully worked his way past all of Ignis’s defenses and then systematically torn them apart. Ignis’s perceptions of his own self had changed dramatically in just a few days under Gladio’s expert care. He needed time to adjust to being this exquisite creature that Gladio had shown him to be.

That wasn’t to say that the Shield’s presence was absent from Ignis’s life. Hardly. Gladio was still often conveniently positioned in the Citadel corridors just outside of the Council chambers when Ignis left meetings. They would exchange heated glances, Ignis would bow slightly at the waist in a slightly more formal and reverent gesture than the usual nod or a wave he offered to others. Ignis entered his office to work on paperwork per his schedule and found a takeaway container of seafood chowder, still hot, with a note in Gladio’s messy scrawl ordering him to eat before doing anything else, under penalty of punishment.  Gladio found a hundred little ways to insert himself into Ignis’s life, a hundred little ways to take care of him, without overwhelming him.

Ignis ached to return the care and consideration to the Shield, tenfold. His appreciation for the other man seemed to know no bounds. Gladio had changed him profoundly, and with each little gesture he was building up Ignis’s confidence and self-esteem, undoing the damage from years of neglect and isolation. That was why Ignis found himself sneaking into the training hall to “strategically relocate” a few sets of Crownsguard training gear in Gladio’s size to his own quarters, so that the Shield wouldn’t have to put on yesterday’s clothes when he stayed the night.  It was why his grocery list contained the acid green sports drink the other man liked, and his favourite spicy shrimp cup noodles.

They still spent time together, of course. Ignis would read reports or write summaries while Gladio read novels or watched television. Gladio would use him as a footrest or a pillow, and Ignis lapped up the opportunity for contact. He felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into his submission to Gladio, and it was glorious. He found himself enjoying the other man’s company so much that he didn’t care if they were watching some awful action movie while Gladio caressed his half-naked body, or if he was trying to read a census report on all fours with Gladio’s feet digging into the small of his back. It was Gladio, and therefore it was perfect.

Their encounters remained fairly chaste, however. Sure, shirts were removed, hands wandered, appreciated, worshipped. Kisses both soft and bruising were exchanged. Neither man doubted their attraction. But Gladio waited. He hesitated. Ignis wondered if he still thought Ignis needed more time to adjust to his newfound happiness or if something else may be going on inside the Shield’s head.

And then he received a text while preparing Noct’s breakfast one morning.

_“Hey little pet. How’s your ass?”_

Ignis glanced up, checked to ensure Noctis was still deeper in the apartment trying to dress himself. Cheeks rosy, he hastily tapped out a response.

 _“I’m told it is exquisite, Sir.”_ He paused a moment then added a second message. _“It’s also completely recovered.”_

Something warm and happy fluttered in his chest. He knew, he hoped he knew where this was going.

_“Your place. Tonight. Around nine.”_

_“As you command, Sir. As you command.”_

Ignis allowed himself a brief grin while he flipped the pancakes he was preparing for Noctis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week, Gladio rides his Ignis like a chocobo. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. Butt stuff is happening.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. Lots of smut, with just a dash of feels.

Ignis paced through his quarters, sock feet practically wearing a path into the glossy marble floors. It was almost nine and he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He’d shed part of his work clothes, clad only in his trousers and a blue silk dress shirt. His tie and waistcoat already abandoned lest they prove too great an obstacle. Should he get drinks ready? Music? Play with the lighting in his living space until it was more flattering?

A knock broke his train of thought and also put an end to his musings. Gladio was here, three minutes bloody early. Damn. Trying to mask his nervous excitement, he padded to the door to let the other man in.

As soon as the door closed Gladio reached for Ignis, easily pushing him back against the door. The Shield’s hands were surprisingly gentle as he moved to cup Ignis’s face between rugged palms, amber gaze warm and intense as it locked with Ignis’s cool teal.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Gladio growled, then leaned in to press his lips to Ignis’s, swallowing any reply Ignis might have thought to make. It began as a tender caress, Gladio’s lips barely brushing Ignis’s, then gradually deepening until Ignis couldn’t breathe, drowning in beautiful sensations, the heat of the kiss radiating through his entire body until his toes curled. With his back pressed to the door Ignis had nowhere to retreat to, and could only sling his arms around the larger man’s waist, clinging to him as he went weak-kneed.

Chuckling, Gladio leaned back, a string of saliva snapping between two pairs of kiss-swollen lips.  He traced the fullness of Ignis’s lips with the pad of his thumb, wiping away the moisture. Ignis moaned, and pressed a fervent kiss to the pad of Gladio’s thumb before the other could break contact.

“So eager tonight.” Gladio rumbled, amber irises already surrendering to dilating pupils.  

“For you.” Ignis breathed.

Gladio snorted. “Better be for me, geeze.” The larger man leaned in again, capturing Ignis’s mouth in a yet more bruising kiss, and Ignis could feel the possessiveness infused into the gesture.  He moaned, surrendering to the heat of Gladio’s mouth, the strength of the hands that were pawing clumsily at his shirt buttons.

At last Gladio had his fill of his pet’s kisses and he stepped fully back, backed up until he could lean against the opposite wall. Muscular arms crossed over the Shield’s broad chest, one hip cocked. It was a pose that invited appreciation and worship. Ignis was more than eager to oblige him, sea green gaze drinking in the other man eagerly. Gladio was wearing a simple white Crownsguard tank tucked into a pair of dark jeans. If Ignis squinted he thought he could just make out the lines of the other’s tattoo beneath the clinging fabric. It was just enough of a tease to make him ache for more.

Ignis drew in a shuddering breath as he sank to his knees, still looking up at the Shield, still feasting greedy eyes. He yearned to touch him, to reach out and breach the few feet of distance between them. He let out a low breath and clenched his hands into fists atop his spread knees.

Gladio smirked, it was obvious that he knew how irresistible the view was.  Ignis mentally cursed him as a bastard. Ignis also mentally praised him as he would one of the Six.

“Get over here and help me take off my boots, little pet.” Gladio’s voice was husky, and Ignis thought that just maybe he had been looking forward to this evening half as much as he himself had.

“Yes Sir,” Ignis breathed out. There was no point in rising to cross such a short distance, and he suspected that this had been Gladio’s point. Palms pressed to the floor, the royal advisor crawled towards the Shield. Gladio’s gaze was practically a solid weight upon him, he could feel it so intensely. Smirking, Ignis reckoned there was no reason he couldn’t put on as good of a show as he got, and he let his slim hips sway, exaggerating the motions as he sinuously made his way on his hands and knees, until he was knelt once more in front of the other man, where truth be told he was most content.

Ignis caught the sound of Gladio’s breath hitching and somehow the man’s deep tones sank an octave lower when he spoke. “Nice view.”

It was a compliment, not a question, but Ignis couldn’t help flicking his gaze upwards, peering at the Shield through sinfully long lashes for a man. “Yes, Sir. Thank you for it.” He grinned, then set to his task before he could get into trouble for becoming distracted, though really who could blame him with such a beautiful specimen in front of him. He sighed, and deft hands moved to make quick work of Gladio’s laces. Gladio assisted him, lifting one foot and then the other so that Ignis could slip the boots off and set them to one side. In a fit of boldness that he hoped he’d get away with, he leaned forward, folded nearly in half so that he could reach to press reverent kisses to the tops of Gladio’s now bare feet. A pleased groan from somewhere above him signalled that he had gotten away with the uninvited touch.

“This is definitely a new requirement for you going forward, little pet.” The elder sighed.

The contentment in Gladio’s voice shot straight to Ignis’s core. Pleased beyond words, Ignis flicked his tongue out, offering a brief, playful caress over warm skin before he straightened his back, kneeling back into his heels. “Yes Sir, whatever you like.”

“Pretty much. Now I’d like to see more of what’s mine.” Gladio crooked a finger for Ignis to follow him, and headed towards the living area. Ignis held a brief but furious debate with himself before opting to crawl behind the other man, trailing behind him until the Shield turned to settle into the leather armchair that he so seemed to favor when he was in Ignis’s quarters. A satisfied grin embraced the older man’s rugged features as he watched Ignis crawl the remaining distance before he settled once more into a kneel.  With an imperious gesture, like an emperor upon his throne commanding his subjects, he gestured for Ignis to get on with his show.

The Advisor reached up, freeing his glasses from their usual perch upon his nose, and laid them gently on the coffee table off to the side. His vision was passable, especially at such close range so he would miss out on nothing while giving into one of the other man’s favourite whims: seeing Ignis’s bare face, being free to touch his cheeks without fear of damaging the delicate specs. Ignis knew that he blushed rather easily and while his glasses did a poor job of concealing it, he liked to at least pretend that maybe Gladio couldn’t always see how overheated and utterly debauched he made him.

His shirt was next, nimble fingers working at the buttons until the garment parted in waves of navy silk, exposing the taut planes of his chest and abdomen beneath. Nothing to compare with the majesty of Gladio’s physique, but impressive in his own right, a tight, sculpted gymnast’s body, with skin so pale and smooth that it practically begged to be marked.  When he reached up to actually slide the dress shirt off, he deliberately scraped his nails over his own firm pecs, leaving faint pink lines across ivory skin. Satisfaction swelled within the Advisor when he heard the pleased moan from the Shield, and saw the other man’s hands clench into fists.

His trousers were a slightly less elegant affair. He had his belt undone with a quick flick of his fingers and a tug of leather. Ignis arched upwards onto his knees until he was almost eye level with Gladio. He saw the swell of the other man’s broad chest as he took in a deep breath, amber eyes feasting upon his property with obvious desire. Ignis made a fair show of undoing his fly, elegant fingers slipped beneath the waistband of both his pants and underwear, and he shimmied them down taut thighs until they reached his knees.

“Let me help you, pet.” A predatory glint was in Gladio’s eye as two broad palms were pressed into Ignis’s shoulders, gently but firmly pushing him until his ass met the floor, long legs stretched out before him. The Shield wasted no time, he leaned down, expertly yanked off Ignis’s remaining clothing, somehow managing to tug his socks off at the same time. Ignis was quietly impressed.  
A shiver coursed its way down Ignis’s spine as he lay sprawled, naked upon the cool marble tiles, exposed to the other man’s heated gaze. He had accepted the fact that Gladio liked what he saw, but it was still an intensely vulnerable position, one that filled him with a giddy kind of excitement as he could only hope that Gladio would offer the affection and approval that he so craved from him and him alone.

Ignis felt his pulse quicken as he rearranged himself back into a proper kneeling position again, achingly aware of the partial erection between his legs. Being manhandled by Gladio did truly remarkable things to him, there was no denying it. He cast a surreptitious glance up to the man who’d come to wield so much glorious power over him, trying to suss out whether he was half as aroused as himself. Gladio’s expression was calm, cheeks bare of any telling flush, but that was most definitely a bulge beneath those too-tight jeans he liked to wear.

Ignis cleared this throat his own voice husky now with desire. “Thank you, Sir. For the assistance.”

Gladio flashed a feral grin. “Trust me, darling pet. It’s my pleasure.”

Ignis arched an elegant brow and he grinned, a bit coy. “Speaking of your pleasure …. “ Teal gaze lowered to Gladio’s groin, a tactless but effective ploy.

Gladio hummed approvingly. “I hate to spoil my appetite before the main course, but fuck it. You have five seconds to get your mouth on my cock.” Amber eyes narrowed to slits as the prince’s Shield regarded the Advisor coolly.

The open-ended threat only fanned the flames of Ignis’s arousal and giddy nerves. His hands, usually so steady and sure, were trembling and clumsy as he reached up to work at Gladio’s fly. He managed to pop the button and slide the zipper down within a few seconds, but it was impossible for him to tug the waistband of the other man’s jeans down, not without his cooperation, he was seated too deeply and too firmly in the chair and Ignis lacked the strength to tug the garment down from beneath his partner’s bulk.

Gladio chuckled as he watched Ignis struggle with the command. Ignis could feel angry patches of colour bloom in his cheeks, beads of sweat glistening across his fair brow. His five seconds were long past but by the Gods it wasn’t his fault. He grabbed a fistful of denim and tried one last time to tug the material down before giving up, a resigned moan falling from his lips as he fell into Gladio’s lap, face buried against the other man’s groin, smothering a moan.

Thick fingers threaded their way through Ignis’s sandy hair, and he could hear Gladio clucking his tongue at him. “Need a little help down there?”

Ignis felt pathetic, in an oddly good way that he found endlessly confusing and he filed the sensation away for further review at a later time. In the meantime, he merely whimpered in response to the question. “Mhmm.”

“Ask nicely then, little pet.” Fingers firm but gentle tugged Ignis’s head up and away from the larger man’s lap. “Let me know what you want.”

Ignis planted himself upon his hands and knees before the other man, his entire body glowing with rosy patches of a full body blush. He trembled, even his voice waivered when he spoke. “Please Sir, I want to suck your cock but I can’t get to it.” Ignis dug his teeth into the plump cushion of his lower lip and with monumental effort lifted his eyes to find Gladio’s. “Please fuck my face.”

Ignis would never learn if it was the rare use of an obscenity, the look on his face, or the way his body trembled with need at Gladio’s feet. Something about his plea shot right to Gladio’s groin, and the larger man couldn’t hold himself back, couldn’t deny himself or his pet. His jeans and boxers were torn down his legs and thrown violently across the room with a savage growl, and for good measure the white tank top followed suit, leaving Gladio as naked as Ignis, sculpted body on full glorious display as he leaned back into the chair. Head tilted back he closed his eyes and gestured Ignis forward.

Bliss settled over Ignis like a shroud, and his world narrowed down to Gladio.  Ignis knelt up between a pair of powerful thighs, and he delighted at the feeling of Gladio wrapping his legs around him, caging him in, as if he had any desire to leave this perfect place he’d found between the other’s knees. Gladio placed a large hand against the back of Ignis’s head, guiding him to his waiting erection, where Ignis could already see precome glistening against the tip. He took a deep breath, drinking in the sweet, musky scent that was uniquely Gladio, before lowering himself to his new favourite task.

Ignis braced his hands against the curve of Gladio’s hips, his fingertips tracing the lines of his hipbones, rubbing little circles into the skin there, wordless expressions of his utter adoration for the man.  His breath flowed warm and soft along Gladio’s waiting cock and he wasted no more time, bringing soft, pliant lips to the tip, nuzzling at the salty precome, tongue snaking out to tease at the slit as if begging for more.

Gladio moaned, obviously pleased, and his hips rocked beneath Ignis’s hands, the head of his cock pressed firmly against Ignis’s lips, seeking entry without seeking permission. Ignis let his eyes drift closed, relishing in the taste of the silken hot flesh as it passed his lips, a hot, wet tongue extended to ease the swollen, needy flesh into his mouth.

Gladio’s cock was heavy in Ignis’s mouth, a comfortable weight that helped ground the Advisor, reminding him that this was real, that he really was allowed to kneel before this spectacular man, dragging his cock deeper and deeper into his mouth, laving his tongue around the underside of the shaft, tasting his arousal and need. He felt like the single luckiest person on Eos.

Ignis moaned gently, his voice vibrating around Gladio’s shaft in a way that he knew made the older man’s toes curl with pleasure. He grinned and slowly began to work his mouth up and down the shaft, lips sealed tight around the velvety soft skin, dragged slowly up and down, coating the Shield’s cock in saliva and precome.

Gently, carefully, he drew his lips back up the shaft until Gladio’s cock fell from his lips with an audible pop. Ignis flicked his tongue wantonly across his own lips, tasting the other man’s arousal. Sighing happily, he leaned in, skillful tongue darting out to lap at Gladio’s previously neglected balls, eliciting a sharp cry of pleasure from the other man. Gladio’s fingers clenched tight in Ignis’s hair and he hissed out a low, “Yesss, pet. Fuck. Yesss.”

Never one to deny his partner’s commands, Ignis dutifully pressed the flat of his tongue to Gladio’s needy balls, cradling the heavy flesh, drawing his balls against his lips. He pressed messy open-mouthed kisses to the hot flesh, moaning wordlessly between kisses, knowing how the vibration would travel up Gladio’s length.

Ignis felt Gladio’s thighs clench to either side of him, and he could tell by the way his cock was twitching that he was ready for Ignis to finish. He brought a hand to cradle Gladio’s balls, adoring fingers continuing the massage when Ignis had to occupy his mouth elsewhere, taking Gladio’s cock back between his lips.

Ignis did his best to relax his throat, drawing Gladio’s aching shaft down deep, until the weeping head brushed the back of his throat, coating the inside of Ignis’s mouth with delectable precome.  Gladio’s hips began rolling up to meet Ignis’s suction, thrusting quickly, but not too deeply for Ignis to handle.  

As he had before, he surrendered to the other man’s pace and desires, concentrating on swirling his tongue around Gladio’s cock, on keeping his throat relaxed to accommodate the other man’s thrusts, and on keeping his soft lips pressed tight against the flesh that moved insistently past them. Gladio’s fingers clenched tightly into Ignis’s hair, tugging his head deeper into his groin until his face was buried in the soft scruff of the man’s pubic hair and Gladio was well and truly just fucking his face, Ignis simply doing his best to hold on and keep up. He moaned encouragingly around Gladio when he felt the other man’s dick throbbing, tensing, his release just over the proverbial horizon.

Everything in Gladio tensed and squeezed around Ignis: his fingers in his hair, legs around his back, and cock emptying its load deep into the younger man’s willing throat. Wave after wave of pleasure wracked the Shield’s body, sending him jolting forward against Ignis’s mouth. Ignis couldn’t keep up anymore, and a stream of saliva and come seeped from the corner of his mouth, drippling down his chin. Ignis did his best to lap up the come that coated the Shield’s cock, needing to use his hand to mop up the cream that glistened on his own face.  He coughed, swallowing roughly, his throat and jaw aching in a most delicious way that Ignis knew he would always enjoy, always savour.

“Fuck,” Gladio moaned, body going slack against the leather padding of the chair.

Wordlessly Ignis continued his gentle ministrations, soft lips and slick tongue pressed to Gladio’s groin, his thighs, his hips, anywhere that he could reach to soothe, to clean, to chase the lingering taste of Gladio’s release, be it the come that had seeped into his groin or the sweat glistening across his thighs from the exertion of his orgasm.

Ignis spent several long, blissful minutes luxuriating in the chance to kiss and lick at the other man unhindered, while Gladio regained his composure. Eventually Ignis did shift back, settling into his customary kneeling position, needing to take deep breaths before speaking in a voice that was roughened by sex. “Thank you, Sir. For indulging me.”

Gladio laughed, and rubbed at his eyes with his fists. “Yeah well, far be it for me to deny you when you beg so pretty. Just never forget my generosity, yeah?”

Ignis grinned, knowing perfectly well that the Shield enjoyed himself at least as much as Ignis had, more if the state of their respective dicks was anything to judge by, as Gladio’s was limp with release and Ignis was still rock hard and wanting. “Of course, Sir.”

Gladio sat for a few more minutes, letting his fingers weave through Ignis’s soft, sandy hair. Eventually he cupped Ignis’s cheek tenderly, affection dripping from his voice when he spoke. “Go get us a drink of water or something, hmm?”

Ignis tilted his head, daring to press a kiss to Gladio’s palm before easing away from him with a ragged, “Yes Sir.” He padded into the kitchen, conscious of the other man’s gaze tracking his movements. At the fridge he made it a point to bend over, pulling a bottle of a familiar green sports drink from the bottom shelf. He heard Gladio groaning from the living area, and he couldn’t help chuckling to himself.  Loosening the cap on the way, he hurried back to his position on his knees before Gladio. He offered the bottle to the Shield who took a few long drinks before holding the bottle down for Ignis to take.

“Here, you need this, too.”

Obediently Ignis drank, the tart liquid wasn’t quite to his tastes, but it was cold and felt wonderful against his abused throat. He drained the bottle, his lips smacked audibly against it when he was finished.

“Cheeky little shit, I’ve made a monster out of you.” Gladio looked pleased as punch as he regarded Ignis, however. “Speaking of being cheeky,” Gladio arched an eyebrow and tugged Ignis up by his upper arms, guiding him to kneel up on his knees like he had when he’d been undoing his trousers. “How is that fine ass of yours, hmm?” Rough palms skimmed down the taut planes of Ignis’s back until each one cupped a pert asscheek, squeezing the supple flesh experimentally. When Ignis moaned in delight, eyes rolling back slightly, Gladio squeezed harder, kneading the tight muscle.

“Exquisite, Sir.” Ignis managed to breathe out in a husky whisper.

“It sure is. And it’s high time I claimed what’s mine, don’t you think, little pet?”

The hopeful spark that had flickered in Ignis’s gut all day was suddenly fanned into a raging inferno. He had hoped, dearly hoped, that this was where Gladio had been leading him with his texts about his ass, but until he’d received confirmation… Ignis moaned, writhing in place, his ass pressed back into Gladio’s hands. He wanted, no, needed this, in the same way that he needed air, food, and water. He needed Gladio inside of him, their bodies as close as two bodies can be. He needed Gladio to lay claim to every last part of him. He already had his heart and his soul, Ignis had stopped trying to deny that. He only had to finish claiming his body for Ignis’s life to be the utopia that it could be.

“Yes, Gods please,” Ignis keened, his voice slightly higher than his usual deep bass drawl. “Please Sir, if you’ll have me?” Teal eyes were bright and imploring as he sought Gladio’s gaze. Raw desperation was wrought across every feature of Gladio’s face, and Ignis knew that it was a mirror of his own naked desire. Ignis had mastered the art of masking his feelings behind a neutral expression, except for when it came to Gladiolus Amicitia, in which case he was an open book.

Gladio pressed forward, until he could capture Ignis’s lips, not letting go until he’d nibbled the Advisor’s lower lip until it was raw and aching.

“Bedroom. C’mon.” Gladio grunted his orders, and Ignis noticed that the other man’s cock was already beginning to harden again.

“Yes Sir.”

Gladio reached down to where he’d cast his jeans aside, and fished something out of the pocket. He threw Ignis a little wink and held his free hand out to him, helping the younger man to his feet. Ignis was grateful, his legs had turned to jelly with the prolonged kneeling and even more prolonged anticipation of this moment.

There was a protective streak in Gladio that ran deep – a good quality in one who would be a Shield – and it came to the surface at that moment. Sensing his partner’s need, he wrapped an arm gently around Ignis, squeezing him into a one-armed hug as they padded towards the Advisor’s bedroom.  Chapped lips pressed to Ignis’s temple in a reassuring kiss, Gladio murmured gruffly. “Remember you can stop or slow down anytime. And above all, remember that you’re exquisite and so precious to me.” Another kiss, pressed more firmly to his temple. “So precious, okay?”

Ignis nodded, suddenly not trusting himself to speak. His fingers found purchase against Gladio’s jawline, and he traced the scruff of facial hair. Impulsively, brazenly, he leaned up, seeking a kiss, a kiss to reassure both of them that Ignis was okay. Gladio obliged, letting his lips crash into Ignis’s. He didn’t break the kiss as he guided Ignis to the bed, and eased him down to sit on its edge.  He finally tore himself away from his pet’s affections to rumble instructions at him in a deliciously husky tone of voice.

“Lie down for me, pet. On your back.”

Ignis scooted himself back until he was lying properly on the bed. He watched with eager eyes as Gladio moved into position, gently guiding Ignis’s thighs apart so that he could kneel between them. He was acutely aware of the sharp rise and fall of his chest from his deep, shuddering breaths, the way his heart hammered so loudly that he was sure Gladio could hear, and most of all the sinful way his cock leaked preocme and ached for release.

Gladio just looked at him, amber eyes blackened with desire. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips as if he found himself presented with a scrumptious buffet and he didn’t know where he wanted to start. He splayed his fingertips across Ignis’s chest, slowly dragging his nails down, over the tautness of his pecs, teasing at dusky nipples until they hardened to stand at attention. Gladio growled and leaned over him, teasing the little nubs one after the other with his tongue, then teeth, teasing the already aching flesh until his nipples were hard as diamonds and Ignis was ready to scream.

Gladio straightened and locked eyes with Ignis again, and Ignis finally noticed a rush of heat in the Shield’s cheeks. “You have permission to come, okay? You might not be able to help it your first time and I really don’t want to have to punish you.” He stroked Ignis’s abdomen as he spoke, fingers walking over the gentle rise and fall of the younger man’s muscles.

Ignis whimpered and forced himself to speak. “Yes Sir, Gods, thank you.” His hands clenched into fists around his bedspread, bunching it up messily. He was ready, he thought. Or at the very least he was out of patience for the man who’d mastered his heart to finally take him.

Ignis heard a squirt, and he peered over to Gladio. It took a moment for him to realize that he had brought a small bottle of lube with him; that must have been what he’d grabbed from his pants pocket. It was clear and made Gladio’s fingers glisten under the lamplight. He watched, intrigued, as his partner rubbed his fingers together. This was to warm it up, he’d read about this. He was proud of himself for catching on to that, really.

Gladio shifted a bit when he was ready, until he was knelt right up against Ignis’s ass. He reached down to lift Ignis’s right leg, draping it over the curve of his broad shoulder, exposing Ignis’s entrance in such a way that the younger man wouldn’t have to hold himself up.

“Try to relax, pet. Know that I’ve got you. I’m always gonna have you, okay?” Gladio spoke in soft, soothing tones, as if his words could quell the inferno that was raging in Ignis by this point.

Ignis just nodded. He meant to respond with actual words but Gladio chose that moment to brush a slickened fingertip against his entrance. All he could do was moan in pure unabashed pleasure at the sensation. There was no penetration yet, just the teasing circling of Gladio’s calloused fingertips, warming up the little ring of muscles, getting Ignis used to be touched there.  Ignis had never played with himself there, in that way, and so the sensation of something brushing against him, seeking entrance, was utterly foreign.

He could bloody well tell that he was going to like it, though. Quite a bit.

A high keening whine fell from his lips as Gladio continued his teasing circles. His hips began to twitch, arching down to meet the Shield’s fingers.

Gladio’s voice was a velvety whisper, deep and rich and it went right to the sweet spot in Ignis’s groin. “Want more?”

Ignis found his voice, thankfully, though it was weak and wavering. “Yes. Yes Sir. Please? Pleasepleaseplease?”

Gladio grinned, obviously delighting in the way Ignis was becoming undone with just the barest touch. He slowly slipped a fingertip inside, coaxing it past the tight ring of muscle that protested his entry despite Ignis’s actual wishes. He closed his eyes and concentrated on relaxing. He wanted this so badly, more than he could remember wanting anything else, and he would be damned if some stupid natural reflex would get in the way.  He focused on breathing, in through his nose, out through his mouth, until his body began to relax.

“Good, you’re so good, little pet. So good to me.” Gladio soothed. He brought a large calloused palm to the thigh Ignis had draped over his shoulder and rubbed gentle circles into the taut flesh, even as the fingers of his other hand continued to coax and tease at Ignis’s entrance. He had one finger inserted all the way by now, buried up to the knuckle, and Gladio was very slowly dragging it back out of Ignis’s tight hole.

Ignis hissed a sharp breath in through his teeth, breathing exercises abandoned as he was overwhelmed by sensation. If he’d thought that Gladio penetrating him had been intense it was nothing compared to the feeling of his withdrawing, the little bumps and ridges of his finger prodded at his tight walls on the way out, sending shocks of pleasure mixed with pain jolting through him.

Gladio took him slowly, easing his finger in and out until Ignis could breathe easily through the process. He adjusted his angle, slowly coaxing his muscles to relax more before he adding a second finger. Ignis couldn’t bite back his cry of pain at the new intrusions, all of Gladio’s careful preparations with one finger just couldn’t prepare him for the second.  Gladio stopped, his fingers partly insert, buried up to the middle knuckle. Warm eyes sought cool teal and Ignis felt his heart do backflips at the tenderness and care he saw swimming in amber pools.

“I’m okay,” Ignis whispered.  “just need a moment to adjust.” He bit his lip, chewing the plump flesh, waiting impatiently for his body to get the memo, to catch on to the fact that Ignis wanted this desperately. Gladio turned his head to press a kiss to Ignis’s thigh, teeth nipping at the smooth skin, offering a distraction from the other sensations the smaller man was experiencing.

It took awhile, but eventually Gladio had three fingers buried in Ignis’s tight hole, and he thrust them slowly in and out, fingers wiggling and scissoring to further coax the clenching muscles to relax, to expand, to welcome the intrusion. Before long Gladio’s knuckles began grazing that bundle of nerves deep in Ignis’s core, and he cried out shamelessly when his world went white hot with pleasure.

Gladio stilled again, eyes wide, unsure if he’d hurt Ignis or if he’d found his prostate. Ignis moaned, knowing that he needed to clarify, but fuck if he hadn’t forgotten how to speak. He cried out again, angrily, because Gladio wasn’t pumping him anymore and if he didn’t pump him he’d never touch that beautiful spot again and Ignis needed it so badly now that he’d experienced it once.  Wordlessly Ignis rocked his hips, and he clenched his jaw against another cry. Gladio grinned, getting the message, and he resumed his careful thrusting, shifting Ignis up his shoulder a bit to more easily brush that sweet spot.

They stayed like this for several more minutes, both men with aching arousals, precome painting their bellies. Sweat and goosebumps covered both of their bodies in a beautiful contradiction. Eventually Gladio decided that Ignis was as ready as he’d ever be, and he slowly withdrew his fingers for the last time. Ignis whined at the momentary loss of contact, he couldn’t help it. He felt so empty and hollow without something filling him.

Gladio chuckled, and gently lowered Ignis’s leg, his fingertips raking lightly over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.  Ignis moaned in response. Gladio’s touch was electrifying. The Shield carefully adjusted their positions so that Ignis’s legs were wrapped around his broad hips. The elder’s large hands gently cupped Ignis’s hips, helping him to rock back into position.

“Hold on, little pet.” Gladio murmured, leaning down to pepper Ignis’s chest with wet kisses.

“Yes Sir,” Ignis whispered. He released the death grip he’d had on the bedding and wrapped his arms around Gladio: his friend, lover and master all in one. He clung to Gladio’s strong shoulders as the other lowered himself to Ignis, the tip of his cock brushed against his wanton hole. Gladio must have rubbed lubricant onto his cock when Ignis wasn’t looking, because his girth slid into him surprisingly easily. It was tight, however, tighter than his fingers, and he felt full before the Shield was fully immersed.  The Shield knew his business, though, and took it slowly, sliding in inch by inch, carefully watching Ignis’s face for signs of distress.

“You’re so good, pet,” he reassured him, voice rough but still tender. “You take my cock so good. You were made for me.”

Ignis’s fingers dug into Gladio’s shoulders, his nails carved little crescents into the taut flesh.  He knew that he was teetering on the edge of something beautiful, something perfect and blissful, and he just had to let go and let himself fall off the edge in order to enjoy it. Gladio was here, about to give him everything that he’d never known he’d wanted. He was almost in, he was so close, Ignis just had to hold on and he could escape. It was so tight, though, he felt so full, like Gladio’s cock was going to fill his entire body. The pressure was intense. Not quite pleasure, not quite pain.

Ignis didn’t know how much time passed, It could have been seconds, or it could have taken an hour, but eventually he heard Gladio unleash a deep guttural moan, followed by an easy sigh. “You did it, pet. That’s all of it. Gods you’re good, so good. I knew you could do it.” The Shield pressed his palms into the mattress alongside Ignis, levering himself up a bit. Ignis continued to cling desperately to his shoulders.

Gladio set a slow, easy pace, barely rocking his hips down. He slid in and almost out of Ignis’s opening, grazing the tight ring of muscle with each pass. Ignis whimpered and clung tighter, kiss-swollen lips parted as he tried to speak. “Yes, yes, yes!”

He heard Gladio chuckle at his enthusiasm, and felt the larger man press his lips to Ignis’s forehead, tender and caring even as he was working on his dream of fucking Ignis into the mattress. That was just Gladio, though, and one of many reasons why Ignis was enamored with him.

Gradually, stroke by claiming stroke, Ignis adjusted to Gladio, and began to rock his hips up to meet Gladio’s thrusts, silently begging for more, for faster, deeper, harder, whatever Gladio could give him, he’d take. The Shield was striking his sweet spot with every other thrust, and the pleasure was becoming overwhelming. Ignis’s vision was blurry, everything was bright and white at the edges. He couldn’t focus on anything but the sweat-slick body gliding against his, and the thick, hard cock plunging in and out of his ass.  His own cock was trapped between their bodies, heavy with need, with an orgasm that had been supressed while Ignis’s body had been torn between pain and pleasure. Now that pleasure was winning out, his release was imminent.

Gladio seemed insistent upon taking this slowly, his pace increased only gradually and his thrusts remained gentle, until Ignis thought that he would go mad.  There was so much sensation around him. The feel of Gladio penetrating him, the lewd sounds of their bodies meeting, the scent of their sweat mingled in the air, the beautiful image of Gladio above him, features tight with concentration as he continued to thrust into him, claiming him with each stroke.

Ignis began to tremble and he writhed beneath the other man, his hips snapping furiously to meet the other’s thrusts until the sound of skin slapping against skin was drowning out the wet sounds of Gladio’s dick sliding in and out of his hole.

As if he sensed how close his pet was, Gladio gave one last, mighty thrust, rocking Ignis body back with the force of it, and then he pulled out. Immediately Ignis’s nerve endings were on fire, furious with unsated need, desperate for more. Through the white haze of his arousal he could just make out Gladio grinning at him, and feel big hands roughly manhandling him into a new position.

“Shh, I got you, I got you. Trust me.”

Ignis found himself rolled over onto his stomach, his aching cock pinned between his body and the bed. He felt the mattress dip and shift as Gladio moved about, then a pair of strong hands were lifting Ignis’s hips up, just enough for the larger man to slide a pillow under Ignis’s middle. Ignis whimpered, he’d been empty for what felt like an age, though in reality it had been less than a minute.

It only took a few moments for Ignis to understand and bloody appreciate Gladio’s expertise.  Gladio was quick to mount Ignis once the latter was comfortably positioned, hips raised slightly atop the pillow. The Shield pressed a rough palm flat between Ignis’s shoulders, holding the smaller man steady against the bed, his other hand cupped the swell of a pert asscheek, squeezing and fondling the beautiful flesh. When Gladio thrust into him this time the sensation was intensified tenfold. It took only the barest touch of his dick to send Ignis spiralling along the path to oblivion, his vision whiting out again as the other man pounded and pounded into his body, prodding his prostate with each thrust, at an angle that made his previous touches feel pedestrian.

Gladio set a blistering pace, and he thrust his hips fiercely into Ignis. The smaller man was rocked by each thrust, body pressed deeper and deeper into the mattress under so much weight and brute force. Gladio punctuated each thrust by squeezing Ignis’s ass, and it was so perfect that Ignis could cry. Maybe he did cry, his face and hair were soaked with sweat, for all he knew there were tears there as well. Ignis was blind to everything but their cocks.

Ignis’s dick was pressed into the pillow as Gladio fucked him, and the friction was going to make him come at any moment. His body shuddered beneath Gladio, trembling and quaking with need, with the promise of the orgasm that was so close Ignis could taste it. Somewhere above him Gladio growled, adjusting his position one final time. The hand that had been holding Ignis down between the shoulders moved, until thick fingers were tangled in his messy, sweat-soaked hair. The Shield hissed and tugged Ignis’s head up by the hair, snapping his neck back none too gently.  His other hand lifted, no longer content to squeeze and caress Ignis’s ass, now he was slapping Ignis’s flank in time with his thrusts, and the pleasure mingling with pain was exquisite beyond words.

As much as he had loved Gladio gently taking him apart with his fingers and with gentle thrusts while he kissed him, he knew this would always be his favourite, to be taken from behind and ridden like a beast. There was just something primitive and perfect about it. Gladio’s raw strength was difficult to ignore, but it was downright impossible to ignore like this, when he was so at the other’s mercy. It felt so right and proper to be fucked into the bed by him, and he wanted to do it everywhere and everywhere, feel himself fucked into the ground, into the floor, into the wall – anywhere Gladio wanted to ride him.  

Ignis wished that he could see them. Gladio mounting him from behind, his vicious thrusts slamming Ignis into the mattress, making the bed quake with the force of it. He imagined that Gladio looked amazing riding him like this, clutching Ignis’s hair like one might grip the reins of their chocobo. The mental imagery was delicious, and combined with the incredible sensations coursing through every fiber of his being, it was all too much. Ignis cried out and released violently into the pillow.

Gladio cried out his satisfaction when he felt Ignis coming beneath him. He slowed his thrusts and leaned over his partner, pressing his sculpted chest against Ignis’s back, rocking his entire body beneath him, helping Ignis ride out his orgasm, milking out every drop.

Gladio himself was close but Ignis could dimly feel that the other man hadn’t come yet, he was still rock hard as he hammered into Ignis’s ass. It still felt wonderful, sinfully so. Ignis was sensitive and tender in the wake of his release and Gladio’s intrusions kept him raw and on the edge of pleasure.

Now that Ignis had been satisfied Gladio was quick to finish. His hips snapped hard against Ignis’s ass and the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed in the room, mingling with the labored sounds of their breathing. Gladio rode Ignis for perhaps another minute before he went rigid with his own release, filling Ignis with hot, thick seed.  Gladio rocked slowly into him, shooting come into his core with each thrust, until he too was spent and he collapsed atop Ignis. He released his grip on Ignis hair and the Advisor felt his scalp tingling in the wake of such rough treatment.

They lay that way for several minutes, neither man having the strength nor desire to move. It was difficult to breathe with Gladio’s bulk draped overtop him, but Ignis didn’t mind. He didn’t mind the come that was pooled beneath his belly from his own release. He didn’t mind the way his scalp and ass stung. He didn’t mind how hot and damp with sweat Gladio was, nor how heavy he was, all of his weight resting on Ignis’s back and hips. He’d never felt so wonderful. He was exhausted, and probably looked a fright, covered in sweat and come, skin blotchy with pink heat. He knew that Gladio would just think that he looked beautiful like this.

Eventually the Shield groaned and then sighed. Ignis had his head tilted to one side, cheek pressed to the bedding. He could see Gladio out of his peripheral vision, and the sight of him nearly made his heart beat in double-time. He was gorgeous, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed, lips swollen and gently parted. Utterly debauched. Ignis sighed then as well, pleased beyond words to have reached this milestone with the other man.

The Shield came to his senses enough, or regained enough strength again, to be able to move. He slowly, gently eased himself up onto his elbows until his flaccid dick slipped from Ignis’s ass.  At once Ignis missed the connection to the other man, but was also happy to breathe a bit easier and to feel the cool air kiss his heated flesh.

A series of tender kisses wound their way across Ignis’s shoulders and down his back as the Shield slowly sat up and crawled his way down the length of the bed. He paused to press a few more reverent kisses to Ignis’s lush asscheeks, taking particular care of the slightly pink one that had been manhandled during their lovemaking.

“You did so good.” Gladio’s voice was hoarse, as if he’d forgotten how to use it. He cleared his throat and continued. “I’m so proud of you, little pet. I really am. Are you ok?” Fingertips were gently caressing his thighs, over the swell of his ass, and along the dip of his lower back.

“Mhmm.” Ignis sighed and cleared his own throat. “Yes Sir.”

Gladio pressed a kiss to the small of Ignis’s back and murmured soothingly. “I’ll be right back, you just rest there, okay?”

Ignis hummed his assent, he could already feel exhaustion tugging at the edges of his consciousness.

Gladio was gone but a moment before returning with a warm, damp washcloth which he used to carefully clean them both off. The come-stained pillow was tossed into a corner of the room, Ignis had others, it was fine.

Once they were clean, Gladio stretched himself out alongside Ignis on the bed, and drew the duvet up over them both. The Shield’s strong arms wound their way around Ignis’s lean body, holding him securely while the younger man valiantly tried to fight back sleep.  Ignis buried his face into the crook of Gladio’s shoulder, absent-mindedly kissing the smooth skin there. The Shield chuckled and smoothed a hand over Ignis’s back in gentle circles. “Still so full of affection, hmm?”

“Hmm” Ignis hummed happily. “Yes Sir.” His voice was thick with sleep, he was quickly losing the battle to remain conscious. “Think I might be in love.”

Gladio’s embrace tightened, strong arms tugged the smaller man deeper into the warmth and security of his own body. “I know, my pet. Me too. Me too.” He sighed and buried his face in Ignis’s hair.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so it looks like this fic is winding down. Finally, right? I do intend to convert this to a series so that I can add additional stories for these boys from within this particular little world, so I'm not exactly finished here. I want to explore their relationship during and post-game, but I don't feel like that belongs in the main story. (Also, I'm happy to accept requests for those little episodic stories).
> 
> I do apologize for the delay in posting this, and I'm still not exactly happy with it, but ehhh. It was a struggle to get the boys where I wanted them to be. The final chapter is already mapped out and I'm happy with it, so it won't take nearly so long to write.
> 
> Sincere thanks to everyone who has stuck with this train wreck. You're amazing.

Ignis could count on the fingers of one hand how many times he has woken before his alarm: four times.  Four times in his rather substantial memory. Even as a very small child he had been held to a strict schedule, and lessons had been more important than sleep. He was therefore pleasantly surprised to find himself swimming towards consciousness, guided by the gentle hand of natural wakening instead of the insistent blaring of his alarm clock. The first sounds to greet his ears were the rustling of the sheets beneath him as he shifted, and the low, steady rasping of Gladio’s breathing beside him.

Five times. He was now up to five times.

The Advisor allowed himself a moment to stretch luxuriously in bed, cocooned by the warmth of his duvet and Gladio’s broad chest. He was comfortable, but felt odd aches and tenderness in muscles that he didn’t even know the names of, didn’t know that he ever used. Slowly the events of the previous evening came back to him, and provided a context for the satisfying aches he felt in his hips, shoulders and, well, more intimate areas.

He had to squint to read the display of his alarm clock, but managed to make out the fuzzy numbers enough to verify that he had almost half an hour before his alarm was due to shatter his peace. Excellent.

With a pleased sigh, he curled himself into the warmth of Gladio’s bare chest, careful not to jostle the other man awake. He would stealthily maneuver himself out of bed in time to toggle his alarm off, but for now he had time to just languish in the other man’s heat, breathe in his sweet musky scent, and just relax while his clever mind recalled and processed the previous evening.

He couldn’t shake the odd feeling that he was forgetting something really important that had happened. He needed to stop mentally replaying the sensation of having Gladio riding him. That had been life-altering and wonderful, but not it. Something else was niggling at the edges of his thoughts. Ignis frowned, working his way through the glorious, beautiful evening they had shared. All the way through each fervent touch, each frenzied kiss and tender word until – oh Gods, there it was. Like a post script in a letter, he had let slip to Gladio that he was in love with him.  He had been delirious with lust and foolish with exhaustion, and what shreds had remained of his guard had slipped and the words had just slipped out. And then he had fallen asleep, of all the ridiculous things to do.

Cheeks hot with embarrassment, he turned to bury his face in the pillow. With any luck, maybe Gladio had been so tired and fallen asleep so quickly that he wouldn’t remember what they had said. With any luck his pillow would come to life and eat him alive, thereby sparing him any future embarrassment. Really, either outcome would do.

Ignis groaned. He knew himself, knew that if he stayed in bed any longer with his thoughts he’d only work himself into a neurotic mess, and really, he’d been enjoying being a happy, normal, well-adjusted adult. His only recourse was to get up and make himself too busy to dwell on his incredibly true but nonetheless clumsy words.

Carefully so as not to disturb the Shield, he eased himself out of bed. He tiptoed to his dresser to fetch a pair of clean underwear and lounge pants, and also pulled out one of the Gladio-sized sets of workout gear he’d pilfered, leaving it on the foot of the bed for the other man to find.  Finally, he switched his alarm off so that it couldn’t disturb Gladio, and then padded his way out to the kitchen.

Ignis busied himself in his small kitchen, chopping potatoes and peppers, mixing spices, slicing a small side of anak meat. He liked this, the familiar motions helped to soothe his mind, erase his thoughts before they could become too intrusive.

His body also provided a most acceptable diversion. With each movement he felt a dull, satisfying ache deep inside him. Where Gladio had been just the evening before. Ignis shivered despite the lack of chill in the air. Ignis found that he thrilled at the prospect of feeling the physical reminder of Gladio claiming him all day. This was unlike the discomfort of the bruising from a too-vigorous spanking. This was delicious, carnal, and bloody _perfect_.

While he cooked, he checked his phone. He reviewed his mountain of emails and tapped out responses to the most pressing of them. He reviewed his and Noct’s scheduled, and made a few tweaks to that week’s to-do list.

Eventually Ignis laid his phone aside and turned off the stove. Smiling contentedly, he fetched a bowl and tipped the contents of the pan into it; cubed potatoes, sliced peppers and strips of lightly spiced anak meat, all fried in a light coating of herbs and oil. He fetched the little wooden lap table that he had, previously only used on the rare occasion that he was ill and wanted to work from bed. Until then it had only held paperwork but this morning it would be put to a far more enjoyable use.  He carefully laid out a heaping bowl of food, cutlery, napkins and a tall glass of juice. Balancing his burden with practiced ease, he carried it into the bedroom, laying it down upon the nightstand beside his sleeping partner.

Ignis swept his gaze to the clock with a sad sigh. As much as he wanted to let Gladio sleep, the morning was quickly slipping away from him and he knew that the Shield would have his own duties to tend.  The least he could do was make Gladio’s wakening as enjoyable as possible. The man had been responsible for so many happy moments and pleasant mornings for Ignis lately, it was the very least that he could do, and in truth it truly was a pleasure for him to do so.

With a tender hand Ignis reached over to smooth dark tangles from Gladio’s brow. The larger man grunted softly in his sleep but continued slumbering even as Ignis continued to caress the man’s smooth brow. Chuckling low, Ignis carefully eased the duvet down, revealing inch by glorious inch of Gladio’s naked body. He stopped when the comforter was pooled around the man’s hips. Ignis took an indulgent moment to drink in the sight of the Shield before him, peaceful in rest, his sculpted muscles relaxed and soft for once. Oh so gently Ignis reached out to brush his fingers along the slopes of the older man’s back, caressing lightly at first with just his fingertips before gradually moving to rub slow, even circles into his back. Eventually, as Ignis increased the pressure, Gladio began to ease into consciousness, until first one then another amber eye cracked open.

“Hey,” came the gruff greeting, the bodyguard’s voice thick with sleep.

“Good morning, Sir. It was a pity to wake you but rather unavoidable.”

Gladio sighed and stretched his long limbs. “Hmm.” A slow smile curved his full lips as he focused on Ignis. “It’s okay, lookin’ at you makes up for it being so early.”

Ignis grinned a bit sheepishly. “Well thank you, Sir. I hope this also helps make amends.” He picked the tray up from where he’d set it down. Gladio made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a purr and hastened to sit himself upright so that Ignis could set the little table across his lap. “Damn, pet,” Gladio’s gaze swam with obvious affection. And hunger. Ignis chose to focus on the affection, however. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

After verifying that Gladio had everything that he needed, Ignis padded into the bathroom to take an extremely quick shower. Not bothering to wait until the water had reached his ideal temperature Ignis stepped into the lukewarm spray, too eager to be done with his morning grooming routine, too eager to return to his place with Gladio.  He showered and shaved in record time and was back in the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his hips before Gladio was even halfway finished with breakfast.

Gladio smirked, one brow cocked. “Miss me?”

Ignis pursed his lips and knew that his cheeks were tinted a soft pink. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I am merely attempting to adhere to my schedule.”

Gladio snorted. “I got your schedule, remember? Get your smart ass over here.”

Ignis twitched a grin despite himself, and moved to obey, artfully folding his long legs beneath himself to kneel beside the bed. The irony was not lost on him, that he was kneeling on the knee-achingly hard floor beside his own bed, in which Gladio lounged. Ignis didn’t mind, there was a rightness and a comfort to the situation that he might never find the words to adequately describe.

“I’m assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” Gladio rumbled down at him. When Ignis nodded the affirmative, Gladio chuckled and pulled a strip of anak meat from the bowl, letting it dangle from his fingertips in front of Ignis.

A shameless moan fell from Ignis’s lips before he had the sense to try to swallow the wanton sound. He didn’t have time for too many more distractions that morning, and he knew that if he kept making sinful little noises, Gladio would insist upon scrapping Rule #1, or at least temporarily suspending it.

Gladio just chuckled at him. “Fuck you’re hot.” He pressed the meat to Ignis’s lips, and he parted them obediently, allowing Gladio to hand feed him bits of breakfast.

It was nice, no, it was _wonderful_ , having Gladio hand feed him like this, like his pet, like his puppy. Ignis eagerly took the morsels from his fingers, his quick tongue snaking out to lick residual juices and flecks of spice from the Shield’s fingers.

Ignis found himself relaxing moment by moment as it became obvious that Gladio was not going to grill or reprimand him for what he had said last night, when he had so artlessly confessed that he did in fact love the man. Either the Shield didn’t remember, or he had taken it in stride. Based upon the endearing, heart-wrenchingly sweet way he was looking down at Ignis, he was inclined to believe that it may in fact be the latter.

Gladio passed Ignis the remains of his juice so that the Advisor could finish it, and took the opportunity to ask. “How are you feeling, pet? You seem okay but, y’know, I worry. Kinda my job.” Gladio grinned and shrugged a bit helplessly.

Ignis set the now empty glass on the nightstand behind him. “I’m fine, Sir. Better than fine.”

“Doesn’t hurt?”

Ignis tilted his head to the side, considering. “Kind of a dull ache. It’s not unpleasant.”

Gladio nodded. “Good. Remember my cock in your ass every time you feel the ache today.” That smug look was back on his chiseled features, that one that made Ignis want to both kiss him and slap him.

Ignis inhaled sharply and nodded. “On that note, Sir, I do need to dress and dash as it were.” Uncurling from his servile position, he bent over Gladio to brush a chaste kiss to the top of the man’s head, then took the tray for him.

* * *

The following afternoon the pair were in the locker room, Gladio tapping away on his phone while Ignis was fixing his hair, scowling at his unruly bangs that required far too much gel to stay up that day. It hadn’t been Ignis’s best training session. He had begun training with lances as a secondary weapon, incorporating his natural agility into the technique through the addition of little flips and jumps. It was a slow but steady process, and he had grown accustomed to falling down as his body developed the necessary muscle memory to pull the showy moves off. It was just, well, falling down hurt a lot more when one’s ass ached after being thoroughly fucked by someone with a dick the size of Gladio’s. Or anyone, Ignis presumed. He didn’t really know it was like to be penetrated by anyone else.  Didn’t care to know, either.

“You doing alright there, Specky?” Gladio peered over at Ignis. The Advisor could see the other man behind him, his reflection caught in the mirror he was using to try to guide his hairstyling.

“I’m fine. Just dealing with some, er, lingering muscle strains from our last training session.” Code for _Gladio had fingered him while Ignis had jerked him off in the shower that morning_.

Gladio scratched the back of his head, grinning savagely. “Yeah? Well look after yourself. This whole place would probably fall apart without you.”

“Indeed. Anarchy would surely reign.” Ignis rolled his eyes as he finally got his hair to stay out of his eyes. “You’re a rather brutal taskmaster, though. I can only do so much.”

Gladio chuckled, his gaze flitting between Ignis and his phone. “Yeah. On that note, send me your shopping list, I know you have one, or five. You fucking love lists. I can knock some stuff off of your to-do list for Saturday.”

Ignis arched his fine brows. “Gladio, you don’t need to do that, you have your own duties to attend to. I couldn’t ask you to- “

Gladio cut across him and Ignis immediately quieted. “I ain’t asking. I’m telling. Let me help you.” The larger man stood up, feet shuffling awkwardly together. “I’m not as good at using my words as you are. So let me, let me,” he paused, an uncharacteristically embarrassed-looking smile on his face. “Let me show you that I love you.”

Ignis heard a loud clattering. He looked down, noting absently that he had dropped his comb and jar of styling gel. The gel rolled under a row of lockers and was probably lost to the ages now.

Gladio ran his fingers through his hair, expression still sheepish. “Sorry, didn’t mean to catch you off guard like that.”

Ignis’s jaw worked mutely for several painfully long seconds. “So you did remember. I wasn’t exactly sure…” He ducked down to retrieve his comb from the floor. He squinted in the direction his gel had rolled off to and wrote it off as a lost cause. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, still crouched down, gaze fixed on the tiled floor. “It slipped out rather artlessly of me. I was so caught up in the moment that I spoke my heart without considering your feelings nor the timing.”

“Specky, shut up.” Gladio was laughing gently. Ignis’s gaze shot upwards to regard the man, noting the way he ran his hands over his face, as if trying to erase the red tinge of a blush that was obvious in his cheeks. “You were perfect and adorable, even if you did kinda fall asleep right after. Fuck, that just made it cuter.” Gladio flashed a rare self-deprecating smile, a look that seemed far more at home on Ignis’s own face. “I’m not the greatest at talking about my feelings, or I would’ve said something weeks ago. So just, let me help you with stuff, ok? Let me carry some of your load. It’s how I can show you that I love you, even if I’m bad at saying it.” Gladio paused, shuffling his feet awkwardly again. “Even if I’m a big dolt who just says ‘me too’ when someone says they love him.”

Ignis stared blankly at the Shield for a few moments, still crouched down, holding onto his comb.

“Iggy? You okay down there?”

Ignis barely registered the sound of his own voice when he spoke. “Kiss me?” Ignis blinked owlishly up at Gladio.

Chuckling, the bodyguard pulled Ignis to his feet and drew him in for a soft kiss, or at least a kiss that began with every promise and intention of softness and sweetness, but swiftly turned to rough and raw, lips burning with passion and love.

They broke apart, as if they both realized at once where they were, and who could potentially walk in on them at any time – including Noctis and Clarus Amicitia. Ignis wasn’t sure which prospect was more horrifying. Obviously, they and others would need to be informed of their relationship if he and Gladio continued down this path, but having someone walk in on them while snogging in the locker room was not how Ignis wanted that conversation to begin. Noctis would be hurt that he hadn’t been simply told, and Clarus, well, Clarus would either rip Ignis’s head off with his bare hands, or buy him a stiff drink.

* * *

That evening they met in Gladio’s quarters. Ignis was lying on Gladio’s bed, a black and white bandana tied over his eyes, sheathing the world around him in darkness. His wrists were bound to the headboard, arms stretched just a hair short of being painful.  Ignis was panting, his chest straining with each sharp breath, as both goosebumps and sweat danced across his skin, forming a beautiful contradiction that told the story of their current debauchery.

“You’re so fucking good, little pet. You should see yourself there, splayed out for me. You’re a mess. Come all over your stomach.” Ignis felt the calloused tip of a finger stroke down his stomach, skimming the little ridges of his abdominals where he could feel Gladio scooping up their come, and in his mind’s eye he could see the pearls of sticky moisture collected on his digit.  Without warning he suddenly felt a finger pressed to his lips and he parted them eagerly, allowing the Shield to slip his come-soaked fingers into Ignis’s mouth.

“Lick. Clean up your mess.” Gladio’s voice rumbled from somewhere beside him.

Ignis moaned around the finger, his tongue snaking out to do the other man’s bidding, eagerly wrapping around the tip of Gladio’s finger to suck the salty material away.  One by one Gladio dragged his fingers through the puddle of come that had formed when Ignis had violently orgasmed a few minutes ago, and one by one Ignis licked and sucked them clean.

He felt the shifting of the mattress as Gladio climbed over him once more, rough lips pressed to his in a searing kiss that tasted of both their seed. Ignis had come into Gladio’s hand, and a moment afterwards Gladio had come by his own hand, and aimed the thick ribbons of come at Ignis’s torso. He could still remember, would always remember, the feeling of Gladio’s seed hitting him, painting him, sticky and tacky and absolutely perfect.

Ignis had been amazed at how exquisitely heightened his other senses became when Gladio blindfolded him. Gladio had spent a long, torturous hour with Ignis bound and blind upon his bed, teasing him with different touches. Gladio had used his fingernails and teeth to mark him (though only in places he could easily conceal), and his tongue to tease him. He had been absolutely merciless. He’d licked the sensitive spots behind Ignis’s knees, dragged his nails over Ignis’s hips, kissed the tip of his nose.  It felt as if every nerve ending in body was on fire, until even the feeling of Gladio’s breath ghosting over his sweat-soaked flesh made him cry out in tortured bliss and writhe furiously against his bonds.

Gladio had wound him up so tight that all it had taken was three sharp tugs on his cock to make Ignis finally come, after an appropriate amount of begging.

“Close your eyes, little pet.” Gladio murmured softly to him, his breath a hot caress against his ear.

Ignis whimpered out a weak “yes Sir” before he felt Gladio’s strong fingers pulling the bandana up and off of his head. The mattress shifted again, and Gladio was untying his wrists.

Ignis opened his eyes slowly, squinting despite the low golden glow cast by Gladio’s lamp. He watched, transfixed, as Gladio began gently rubbing Ignis’s arms, helping to coax circulation back into his limbs, staving off any cramping or tenderness.

Gladio beamed down at him, like Ignis’s personal little sunshine.

“Hi,” Ignis grinned. He was slightly drunk on endorphins, he could tell. His brain felt happily fuzzy.

Gladio chuckled down at him and pulled him against his broad chest. “Hi yourself, beautiful.”

Ignis sighed and pressed himself into Gladio’s chest, molding their bodies together into a seamless tangle of naked limbs.  “Can we add that to the list of things I definitely want to do again?”

“Mmmhmm,” Gladio rumbled, and Ignis felt the comforting, familiar way the sound vibrated through Gladio’s chest. “So blindfold good, gag not so good, yeah?”

Ignis’s nose crinkled and he curled tighter into his partner. “Yes. Please. No gags.” He hated the memory of the gag in his mouth, the feeling that he would suffocate from not being able to draw in enough air through his nose, and the terror of not being able to speak, even though they had worked out safe signals in the event that Ignis needed to stop play.

Chapped lips pressed a tender kiss to the top of Ignis’s head.  “We’ll never do anything you’re not comfortable with, you know that.” Gladio’s arms tightened around him, the Shield trying to physically shield him from the rest of the world.

“I know. That’s why I love you.”

Gladio squeezed tighter, threatening to crack Ignis’s ribs. “I love you, too.” The crushing pressure eased as Gladio shifted them so that he could reach down for his quilt and draw it up over the pair of them.

It was too early to sleep, but neither one of them felt inclined to get off of the bed. They were far too wrapped up in, well, being wrapped up with each other. Literally. Instead they settled into comfortable positions with Ignis’s back pressed into Gladio’s chest. Gladio had swiped their phones from his nightstand and they lay there, each having a phone in one hand, the fingers of their other hand laced with the other. Ignis smiled. It was slightly awkward, managing his phone one-handed, but he had no intention of letting go of Gladiolus.

They were quiet for a time, both comfortable enough with the other that there was no need to fill the silence. They both lead busy lives and checking their messages was a necessary part of their life, and one that neither of them, particularly Ignis, could neglect for long. He was grateful to have a partner like Gladio who understood his duty and all that it entails, who wouldn’t judge him for having his phone or tablet in his face every free moment.

Gladio only broke the silence when Ignis laid his phone aside, having sorted his emails and responded to those that required a response. “So, I was checking your to-do list…”

Ignis felt a familiar fluttering in his chest. He had been touched beyond measure when Gladio had offered to do Ignis’s shopping for him.  He had in fact done the shopping, saving Ignis at least an hour. Granted, Ignis might have selected slightly fresher produce, slightly leaner cuts of meat, but Gladio had done fine, and Ignis was grateful.

“Yes, Sir?” He shifted backwards a bit, nestling his back more securely into Gladio’s chest. Strong arms snaked around him, Gladio having abandoned his own phone as well.

“Apartment hunting, eh?”

Ignis rolled his shoulders in a little shrug. “Indeed. It is customary to maintain a separate residence away from the Citadel. The only reason that I don’t is, well, I grew up here, I never had a separate home, so it hadn’t occurred to me to want one. Noctis has been badgering me to get my own place for months now.”

“Really? Huh.” Gladio kissed the back of Ignis’s head then pressed his cheek to the fine tawny hair.

“Really. He’s quite a talented nag. Very annoying.”

“Wonder where he gets it from?”

“Can’t imagine,” Ignis muttered dryly.

Gladio huffed a laugh, squeezing Ignis again. “He fill your head with promises of freedom? Wild parties and take-out food every day?”

Ignis laughed. “No. Well yes, he tried that. Idiot boy, dear to me as he is, he’s still an idiot at times. No, he rather astutely pointed out that it would be more efficient for me if my residence were nearer his apartment, somewhere between there and the Citadel. It would save me significant driving time every day.”

“That was very Ignis-ish of him.”

“Please do not turn me into an adjective.”

“Okay. So he totally Iggied you…”

“Nor a verb either, Sir!”

They both laughed. It was remarkable how they could go from debasement and debauchery to friendly jibing, although Ignis had no doubts that Gladio wouldn’t hesitate to put Ignis in his proper place if he forgot himself.

“Alright, alright, suffice to say, Princess managed to make a good point or two in favour of you getting your own digs. That’s great.”

Ignis hummed. “I guess? I don’t really see that it matters much. It’s not like I have that much free time, it hardly matters where I sleep, shower, and get changed.”

Ignis could feel Gladio tensing, his large hands rubbing little circles into Ignis’s arms as he continued to hold him.  There was a frown in his deep baritone voice when he eventually spoke. “That’s another good reason for you to get a place. You need someplace that can feel like home. Kinda like how I feel when I go back to my Dad’s”

A smile tugged at Ignis’s lips, remembering the last time, so long ago now, when he had gone with Gladio to keep an eye on Iris. It had felt so soothing, being there. So much warmth and joy had been shared in the Amicitia manor through the years that it was positively infused into each room, each piece of furniture. It had been wonderful spending the day there. Ignis was under no illusions that his schedule and lifestyle would ever allow him the same type of domestic solace, but he could hope for something close.

Ignis sighed gently. “I suppose so. I can’t imagine any apartment of mine being quite as homey as your family estate, but I understand the thought.”

Gladio chuckled. “Hey at the very least, you can cut your commute down.”

“Perhaps.” Ignis craned his neck back to look at Gladio. The Shield was eyeing him tenderly, gaze warm and affectionate. “I’m sorry for not speaking to you about this before adding the item to my to-do list. I meant to, I just haven’t really even started yet, and I’m still not entirely sold on the idea.”

“Eh that’s not why I brought it up. I ain’t mad. Hell, I think you’re nuts for not having your own place away from here yet.” Gladio snorted. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted any help looking at places. I thought about getting my own place last year, even looked at a few places. It was kinda daunting doing it on my own. I just wanted you to know that you don’t hafta go through the process by yourself. Unless you want to. You’re all independent and shit.”

“Gladio, er, Sir I mean. Apologies.” Ignis found and squeezed Gladio’s hand. “Thank you. I would welcome your company, and your assistance. If I do move out I imagine you’ll be spending a fair amount of time there, so you should have some input. I don’t really know what I’m looking for, other than proximity to Noctis.”

Rough fingertips skimmed along Ignis’s arms and chest as Gladio caressed him, gently lulling into a more relaxed state so that they could go to sleep. “I have time to go through the classifieds and line up some showings for you for Saturday mornings. If you like. I can tag along and, you know, make sure the building is secure enough to host the advisor to the future King and all that.”

Ignis stretched a long arm out to click Gladio’s lamp off, blanketing them in darkness.

“That’s perfect. You’re perfect. Thank you.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are, better late than never. My sincere apologies for how long this took to write. I've never written anything like this before and frankly didn't know how to end it, or maybe I just didn't want to end it.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and for offering such kind comments and kudos. I had no idea what I was doing when I began this, and goodness knows it has deviated significantly from my original plan. Really I just wanted a medium in which I could write really kinky submissive Gladnis stuff and then all of a sudden I'm just in love with these boys and I can't help being fluffy and smooshy and the BDSM got dialled way the heck down. I won't say that I'm sorry, though!
> 
> I am so so so glad that I finally bit the bullet and wrote fanficiton. You guys are freaking amazing.

Ignis had viewed a number of potential apartments. How many, he couldn’t rightly say anymore. They were fused together in his memory, a blur of tastefully neutral carpets and off-white walls. Sometimes the kitchen cabinets were natural wood, and sometimes they were painted white, so there was some variety in that respect. He had begun to suspect that his choice in domicile would come down to some stoic and impersonal detail, such as efficiency of location. Ignis was fine with that honestly, but Gladiolus kept droning on and on about finding a place that _feels_ right, and seems like _home_ to Ignis.

“Gladio, they’re all the same. Practically literally and figuratively. In fact, I’m pretty sure apartments one and three had the same layout. Why don’t we call it a morning, I’ll plot out on a map which one is most convenient, and apply?”

Gladiolus shook his head, scowling down at Ignis as the pair walked up the street, approaching apartment number who-knows-what. “Hell no, Specky. You gotta pick the one that speaks to you! The one that has the best vibes!” He flashed a toothy grin and drew his partner into a tight one-armed embrace.

“But they’re all the same!”

“No they’re not, that one we just left had a balcony. And uh, I think that one by the market had gray walls.”

“Gray carpet. White walls.” Ignis felt his shoulder slump beneath Gladio’s arm.

“Oh.” The Shield hummed thoughtfully. “Well, uh, maybe this next place will be better. The ad said it has character, which is usually code for rundown and outdated, but they’re asking a lot which is usually code for hella nice, so let’s check it out.” They had arrived at a brick building on the edge of what might be considered Insomnia’s downtown, in the fringe area that was a mixture of small apartment buildings and the occasional small business that couldn’t afford to rent space in a more prime location.

Ignis allowed himself to be ushered by the Shield into the building, his expectations low after a morning of apartments that ranged from dull to uninspired.

It didn’t take long for his outlook to do an about-face.

The building manager led them to the upper storey by way of a noisy but allegedly safe elevator. Ignis had shot Gladio a sideways glance, the words ‘ _rundown and outdated’_ practically written across his face. Gladio just lifted his shoulders in a lazy shrug and plastered on an encouraging smile. Oblivious, the manager escorted them to the end of the hallway and unlocked the door, allowing Gladio and Ignis to enter first and take in their first impression.

The place was wonderful. It was perfect. It was everything that Ignis hadn’t even realized that he had been looking for. Truly he would have been content with something clean, affordable, and closer to Noctis. This, this was beyond his expectations, though admittedly they had been low.

Dark hardwood floors gleamed in the noontime sun that filtered into the apartment through tall arched windows. As the pair began to walk through the rooms Ignis noted with delight the built-in bookcases that dominated one wall in the living room, the exposed brick in the smaller bedroom, and the copper tiles in the kitchen ceiling, that helped reflect light and warmth throughout the space. Everything was trimmed in dark wood, and when he thought about it, it rather reminded Ignis of a library. It was cozy, full of rich warm light, and come on, built-in bookshelves and arched windows. He was fairly certain his grade school library had the same windows.

Amber eyes locked with teal as a slow grin spread over Gladio’s face.

“Okay,” Ignis conceded. “You were right. Although-“ Ignis gestured vaguely at the nearest wall which was glaringly white. Not even off-white. It was as white as Shiva’s rear end.

Gladio squinted. “Looks like primer.”

The building manager interjected, correctly interpreting the discussion. “Yes sirs, that’s primer on the walls. We need to paint the unit for each new tenant. Regulations and all, you know. We’ve got a guy coming in on Thursday to do the work. Not to pressure you or anything, but if I get an offer by Tuesday there’s time to pick your colour.”

Teal sought amber once again and a swift and silent discussion was had. Both men nodded in agreement. The apartment more than met Ignis’s needs and was by far the most interesting place they had seen all day, and Gladio’s nod had verified that he’d noted nothing of concern from a safety and security perspective.

Within the hour Ignis had signed his lease and selected a paint swatch – harvest gold, roughly the same bright shade of amber as Gladio’s eyes in the sun.

* * *

 

Ignis’s moving day was likely to go down in history as the easiest moving day in the history of Lucis.

By the end of the month he had his quarters packed, or at least the items that he was relocating packed. All of the furniture, appliances, and small odds and ends were crown-issued and would stay there, along with a small selection of clothing, bedding, and toiletries in the event that Ignis found himself spending the night there. The small pile of boxes that he had carefully packed and labelled were primarily filled with clothing and books. He had a few additional personal items, gifts mostly, that he couldn’t bear to be without as well.

Regis had informed Ignis that the Palace’s storage rooms were at Ignis’s disposal, that he was welcome to take anything from the Citadel that he liked, “other than the throne,” he’d added with warm humour.  Ignis had been touched, but had politely declined, insisting that Regis had always done more than enough for him and that he had a decade’s worth of barely-touched salary to draw upon to furnish his new residence.

Instead, Ignis spent the weeks between signing the lease and moving in shopping. His duties didn’t afford him much time to actually go to a shop, but he was able to order everything that he needed online and arrange delivery to his new apartment for moving day. He made it a point to select pieces that didn’t fit in with the austere monochromatic design scheme of the Citadel. He chose a plush beige couch, throw pillows with orange and yellow accents, tables and chairs formed of light wood, colourful rugs with large geometric patterns, even his new cookware was accented with orange – everything was warm, comfortable, and light.

Regis had insisted that Ignis take his moving-out Saturday off. He might have declined, had Noctis not volunteered himself to help Ignis move. Ignis knew that Noct was motivated more by curiosity about Ignis’s new place than any selfless, altruistic streak he had, but that was no matter, it meant that Noct would be close by all day, so that Ignis could still look after the Prince even if he would technically be off-duty. And so it came to be that Ignis, Gladio, Noct, and Prompto (who Noct had presumably wheedled into coming along) were assembled in Ignis’s quarters, preparing to transfer boxes down to the truck that the King had firmly insisted that Ignis at least borrow that day.

“You lot just grab the boxes marked ‘clothing’ and ‘miscellaneous’, alright?” Gladio had instructed, eyeing all three of them, Ignis included. Ignis quirked a brow. There were only two boxes of clothing and one box of miscellaneous items, the remaining half dozen boxes were packed to the brim with books and files. Ignis had attempted to point out to Gladio when they had packed those that they would be impossibly heavy but Gladio had waved off his concerns and even went so far as to pull rank and order his submissive to just pack the damn books in the damn boxes.

“Gladiolus,” Ignis began, faint frown lines marring his jaw. “We all know that you’re strong, but not even you can carry all of that, or are you planning on making six trips?”

Gladio snorted. “Real men do it in one trip, Specky. Everyone knows that.”

Prompto bobbed his head in agreement. “Yeah! One time I must’ve taken, like, twenty-two grocery bags into the house at once. My arms hurt after that, though.” His face went droopy with sadness at the memory.

A knock at the door interrupted whatever snappy retort Ignis had prepared. Shooting Gladio a withering look, he moved to the door, opening it curiously. He wasn’t expecting any additional visitors.

He found four very nervous-looking Crownsguard members, wearing tracksuits and trainers. Gladio walked over, eyeing them up and down.

“Just you four?”

“Yes Sir,” a young man with close-cropped blonde hair responded.

A grin broke across Gladio’s features. “Awesome. They’re over there. Good luck, men.”

Ignis blinked owlishly as he watched the four men whom he recognized now as being new recruits move to swarm around the cluster of heavy boxes of books. Each man took one, and with much gritting of teeth, groaning, and stumbling, they began hefting their burdens towards the nearest elevator.

“What-?” Ignis asked, confused gaze meeting Gladio’s. The Shield looked quite pleased with himself.

“Told ‘em that anyone that can carry one of your boxes of books to the truck without dropping it or leaning it against a wall can skip leg day for the next month.” The big man grinned. “If they fuck up they gotta do double laps for the next week, though.”

Prompto whistled appreciatively as he nudged one of the remaining boxes of books. “If they can free carry one of these they don’t _need_ leg day, man!”

Gladio chuckled. “Kinda the point, Chocobo-butt. Now let’s get moving, I gotta keep an eye on them, make sure none of those squirts cheat.”

With that, Ignis, Noctis and Prompto each grabbed a box, with Ignis subtly edging the lightest one toward Noctis for the Prince to take. He just didn’t have it in him to have his Highness perform hard labor on his behalf, but that box was full of sweaters and towels and was really quite light.

Gladio, of course, approached the remaining two boxes of books and hefted one under each arm, a toothy grin bright across his face. Ignis tried not to let the sight of rippling muscles distract him, but the sight of Gladio’s muscles flexing and straining left Ignis feeling distinctly thirsty before they even made it down the hall.

They packed their boxes into the back of the truck amid Prompto’s cheers and whoops of victory.  When it was all said and done three of Gladio’s recruits were exempt from leg day leaving only one downcast soldier to bear the shame of needing to set his box down and take a breather while in the elevator. Ignis had half a mind to send the lad some homemade muffins as an appeasement for his trouble. He made a note to get his name from Gladio later.

* * *

 

They arrived at Ignis’s apartment without incident. The Crownsguard recruits who seemed to regard Gladio with a mixture of fear and reverence tagged along, riding in the back with the boxes. Gladio snorted and called them a bunch of ass-kissing suckups, but didn’t object when they unloaded and carried the majority of the books again.

“One trip, right Sir?” one of them grinned and flashed a wink to Prompto, who let out another cheer, fist pumping in the air.

“Well said, soldier.” Gladio flashed a wolfish grin, taking his own burdens again.

They didn’t all fit in the elevator at once. Ignis went up first with Noctis and two of the recruits, and the rest of their little party followed a few minutes later.  Ignis did his best to offer the recruits his hospitality such as it might be in an empty apartment, but the lads had drills to attend and took their leave.

“That was a brilliant idea, Gladio,” Noctis grinned. “Why didn’t we do that when I moved out?”

Gladio chuckled. “Whatever, it’s not like you lifted a royal finger when you moved out. The moving crew did all the work.”

“Yeah but I had to pay them.”

“Wonderful,” Ignis intoned dryly, “teach your monarch-to-be the joys of slave labor.”

* * *

 

The day passed pleasantly and easily, and the most strenuous activity any of them had to endure was lifting some of Ignis’s larger, heavier books onto a shelf.

All day delivery crews arrived, bringing everything from furniture to crockery. The crews carefully positioned everything where Ignis directed, and assembled those items such as his dining set that required it.

By late afternoon all of Ignis’s deliveries had arrived, and the four of them had unpacked Ignis’s boxes. Noctis had wasted no time getting the television set up and was busy testing it and the new sofa out, insisting that it was a really important job.

“You just want to laze around!” Prompto complained from where he stood in the kitchen, helping Ignis wash and put away the boxes of cookware and dishes that had recently arrived.

“Couches aren’t comfy ‘til they’ve been sat on a bunch. I’m actually being really helpful.”

Ignis allowed himself a soft chuckle but wisely opted to stay out of this one. Luckily there was a knock at the door at that moment. He opened it to reveal his uncle, who was on a break between meetings at the Citadel. Ignis gratefully accepted the houseplant he’d brought as a housewarming gift.

Thus began a small but steady stream of well-wishers bearing gifts. Clarus stopped by shortly after his uncle, awkwardly holding a bouquet of pink and white flowers. “From Iris.” The elder Amicitia was quick to point out before anyone could harbor any delusions that he had willfully purchased anything so garish and pink. His own gift for Ignis was a case of a lovely dry Altissian white wine that Ignis was fond of.  He thanked the King’s Shield profusely for the gift and for taking the time out of his busy day to deliver them.  Clarus shrugged and muttered something about needing to check on his fool son anyway, though he made no move to actually seek out his son, who was deeper in the apartment, tidying up the bathroom.

Not for the first time Ignis wondered how much Clarus knew about his relationship with Gladio.  They were no longer shy about their affections, but it wasn’t like they had ever sat Clarus down and laid bare the lewd and luscious details of their relationship, either. Before Ignis had a chance to dwell, Clarus clapped a large hand on his shoulder and offered Ignis his best wishes before turning on his heel to leave. There was a warmth to the man’s touch, not unlike his son’s, and Ignis rather imagined that he could feel the well-wishes and fondness that Clarus perhaps didn’t know how to give voice to.

One of the last visitors was one of Regis’s aides, carrying a box and an envelope bearing the King’s seal.

“Oooh, more presents!” Prompto hovered, eager to see what the King himself might have gifted Ignis. Ignis tried to ignore the blonde boy bouncing excitedly at his elbow.  To the young man’s dismay Ignis adhered to polite convention and opened the envelope first, revealing a folded sheet of paper and a card bearing the Caelum coat of arms.  The card read:

_“Ignis,_

_I ask that you accept these tokens given in appreciation of your peerless service and dedication to my son.  I regret that I am unable to gift them to you in person but as you exemplify daily, duty must come before pleasure. I hope this missive finds you well, and that you enjoy years of good health and happiness in your new home._

  * _Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII_



_PS My second gift should go nicely with Clarus’s, assuming the old man didn’t drink it all himself.”_

Ignis looked to the case of Altissian wine and chuckled. It seemed Clarus was safe from the King’s ire, it appeared that every bottle had made it safely to Ignis.

Curiosity piqued by the post script, he opened the box, uncovering a set of four achingly beautiful crystal goblets. He felt his breath still, and sensed Prompto backing away as if fearful that his very presence might shatter the beautiful pieces.

“Dang Iggy. I’m guessing those aren’t meant for your morning orange juice.”

Ignis chuckled and shook his head. “I should think not. Special occasions only.” He allowed Noct and Gladio to admire them before finding a place of honour for them in his new china cabinet. He then picked up the sheet of paper that had been included with the card, seafoam green eyes widening as he read.

“What’s that, handsome?” Gladio sidled over, trying to read over Ignis’s shoulder. He let out a long, low whistle a moment later. “Damn, what did you do to make the King like you this much?”

Noctis and Prompto both looked over, eager and expectant.

“It’s a work order,” Ignis explained, cheeks tinting pink with embarrassment at the grand gestures being made on his behalf. “It appears His Majesty has made arrangements with a contractor and with the building’s owner to remodel the kitchen and upgrade the appliances.” In his hand he held a list of upgrades, everything from new appliances to new countertops. “Apparently workmen will be here on Monday and should have everything done before I get back from the Citadel.”

“I think my Dad likes you more than he likes me.” Noctis huffed and slumped into the couch cushions, a half-hearted scowl on his face, but his big blue eyes were sparkling with delight. The Prince shared the King’s sentiments towards his Advisor, even if he sometimes found it difficult to tell Ignis just how much he appreciated his help, including the nagging and mollycoddling.

“His Majesty bought you an entire apartment. Iggy just got a kitchen. Calm your panties, Princess.”

“Gladiolus!” Ignis tried to sound stern as he reprimanded the Shield for his manners, but his lips twitched with amusement, betraying him.

Ever the peacemaker, Prompto chose that moment to mention that he was getting hungry. Immediately all four men turned their thoughts to food.  With a chuckle Ignis fished a handful of notes out of his wallet. “Here. Order pizzas. My way of thanking you boys for helping me.” He smiled as he held the bills for Prompto to take.

“Really?” Noctis was practically bouncing in place on the couch. “Sweet! Prom, dude, make sure you get extra cheese for me, kay?”

“You know it, buddy!”

Ignis smiled as he turned to Gladio, who had drifted over to the bookshelves. “Gladio, do you mind holding down the fort here while I run to the supermarket?”

Gladio took a moment to rearrange a few books before answering. “I don’t mind at all, but if you want I can go. You should stay here in case anyone else stops by for ya.”

Ignis hummed thoughtfully. “Indeed, but I don’t want to put you out. You’ve already been helpful beyond words, Gladiolus.”

Gladio waved a dismissive hand as he sauntered over to where Ignis stood. “Nah it’s nothing, really. You know I’ve always got your back.” And so saying he plucked Ignis’s wallet neatly out of his hands and made his way to the door, calling over his shoulder as he went, “Don’t worry, I know what you like.” He winked, actually _winked_. Such a shameless flirt. It worked, though. Ignis felt heat pooling in his gut.

* * *

 

Several hours later Ignis had a full kitchen thanks to Gladio, who had carried fifteen grocery bags in one trip. Noctis and Prompto had just left, with the blonde gleefully carrying their leftover pizza like a sacred idol. At last after a long but truly wonderful day, Ignis was alone with his lover.

Ignis was standing in the middle of the living room, debating whether or not he and Gladio should christen his new goblets with some of Clarus’s wine when Gladio sidles up beside him, a huge smile threatening to overtake his handsome features, and his hands held out of sight at his back, clearly attempting to hide something from Ignis’s sharp gaze.

“I hope you don’t think I failed to get you a housewarming gift.” Gladio’s voice was deep and vibrating with the intensity of his affection.

“You found me this place, and even enlisted slave labor on my behalf. You don’t need to give me a gift.”

“Yeah well, I gotcha one anyway.” He grinned, amber eyes crinkling up with wicked amusement. “If it makes you feel any better, the gift is as much for me as it is for you. Something you said once, it really stuck with me.”

Ignis swallowed audibly and drew his lower lip up under his teeth, seafoam gaze looking up expectantly, uncertainly.

With a flourish Gladio withdrew his hands, revealing of all things, a collar and leash, both finely crafted of supple inky black leather. Even from where Ignis stood he could breathe in the heady aroma of the leather. He felt for a moment that he could drown in the sensation and all that it seemed to promise. His lips parted wordlessly. He knew that he ought to thank Gladio but as he had so many times in the past, Gladio had rendered him mute with desire.

A moan spilled unabashed from his lips as he fell to his knees before Gladio, before the man who had come to master his body, mind and heart. His wrists found that comfortable, familiar place at the small of his back, causing his lean torso to stretch taut and vulnerable before the other man.

“I take it you like it, pet?” Gladio’s voice had been reduced to a low growl, almost a purr, his tongue wrapping sensually around each word.

Ignis swiped his tongue across suddenly dry lips before he could speak. “Yes Sir, Gods yes. So much.”

Gladio’s free hand came down, rough fingertips skimming the line of Ignis’s jaw then down the elegant column of his throat. Ignis suddenly wanted nothing more in the world in that moment than to be ensnared by Gladio’s leather, utterly subjugated and conquered. “Please,” he barely whispered through the smothering pressure of his need.

The Shield’s fingers traced their way back up Ignis’s jaw, then farther, becoming tangled in soft brown hair. “Strip for me,” Gladio’s voice was barely above a whisper now as well. “I want to see you in nothing but these.” He let the edge of the leash drift down, trailing against Ignis’s cheek.

There was a time and a place for slow, sensual stripteases, languid movements, teasing gestures. This was most assuredly not one of those times.

Ignis’s fingers were a flurry of frenzied movements as he divested himself of his clothing, throwing it all artlessly into an empty corner of the living room. His glasses he removed with a hint of care, folding them neatly onto the coffee table. Gladio too was overcome by the moment. He usually preferred to keep some amount of clothing on, at least initially, just to heighten Ignis’s sense of vulnerability and exemplify the disparity of their stations within their relationship. Not tonight. His clothing joined Ignis’s in the corner, leaving them both bare, one man kneeling, one man standing, both visibly hard and needy.

“Tell me you want it.” Gladio began pacing around Ignis’s kneeling form. He tried to follow his movements as best as he could without breaking from his position. “Tell me what you want, pet.”

Ignis moaned again. Gladio’s voice was like melted butter; hot, liquid and rich. The sound of his voice when he was like this, so possessive and so wanting, it made Ignis’s head buzz, made it hard to think, to rationalize. Truthfully it was exactly why they had entered into this relationship to begin with, to give Ignis a piece of the world where he could turn off his brilliant strategical mind, and to give Gladio a vessel unto which he could impart his desires and his innate need to nurture and protect.

“I want you to put that collar on me,” Ignis fairly bit out the words, his voice sharp and ragged under the force of the desires that he was still coming to terms with, still learning about. “I want you to put that collar on me, Sir, and clip the leash to it and drag me to your pleasure.”

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than it was done. He felt the supple leather encircle his throat, tightening around him as Gladio sought the best fit. He felt the Shield slip a finger between the collar and Ignis’s throat, checking to make sure there was enough slack for his pet to still be comfortable.  He heard the metallic click of the leash being affixed to the little metal ring at the front of the collar. Gladio let the leash unfurl, the end still held fast in his large hand. The slack leather slid down the bared planes of Ignis’s torso, the black leather contrasting beautifully against his alabaster skin. Ignis dared a glance up at Gladio as the man stood before him, holding his leash in one large, warm palm. Gladio for his part looked infinitely pleased with what he saw.

“That’s nice. That’s really fucking nice, pet. Gods I should have leashed you up ages ago. You look so beautiful like that.”

Ignis shivered. He loved how vocal Gladio was when aroused, how free he was with his praise. It helped to reassure Ignis as he navigated this relatively unfamiliar world of pleasure and desire.  “Thank you, Sir.”

“Come on. Let’s start christening your new place.” With that Gladio turned and began striding towards the bedroom at an obscenely leisurely pace. Ignis immediately tipped forwards onto his hands and knees and crawled after the Shield. The leash was held loosely, the excess leather slack and swaying at Gladio’s side, so much so that it would brush against Ignis’s sides from time to time, a little kiss of leather to reward him for being so good, for keeping up, remaining in his rightful place just behind and to the right of Gladio’s heels.

Gladio swaggered into Ignis’s bedroom as if he ruled the place, which at that moment he frankly did. Ignis found himself regretting that the hallway wasn’t longer, or the bedroom farther away. He revelled in each movement, humble as it was to crawl behind another man at the end of a leash. It was a delicious humility, one that fuelled Ignis’s desire to _give in_ and give _everything_ to this glorious man.  He would crawl behind Gladio forever, worshipping the ground that he walked upon, if permitted. He held the other in such reverence, and with such gratitude for the metamorphosis that he had been the catalyst for, for the way he had demolished Ignis’s walls and rebuilt Ignis into the confident, and genuinely happy man that he was that day.

Gladio stopped beside Ignis’s new bed, turned and sat on its edge. Ignis scrambled to kneel before him, racing against the leash as Gladio spooled it around his fist to shorten it. A dark chuckle spilled from the older man’s lips as he tugged, ensuring that he won the ‘race’ as it were, forcing Ignis to stumble forward, his forehead thumping inelegantly against Gladio’s knee before he was able to compose himself into a proper kneel, wedged in between Gladio’s spread thighs. At this angle he had a tantalizing view of the man’s cock, erect and weeping with need, a mirror image to Ignis’s own aching erection.

“You did well. Good boy, pet.” Another dark chuckle and suddenly the leash was slack against, the leather looping downwards, until it brushed against Ignis’s aching member. Ignis hissed at the contact and wanted desperately to arch into it, rub himself shamelessly against the leather. Gladio quirked a brow at him and carefully looped the middle of the leash around Ignis’s cock, the leather ensnaring him in the loosest of holds, but a hold nonetheless. Ignis groaned as he watched the obsidian leather slither around him, teasing the already sensitive flesh, setting his nerve endings alight.

“What do you want now, pet?”

Ignis trembled and it was a genuine struggle to hold his hands submissively at the small of his back when all he wanted to do was reach out to Gladio, capture the other man’s erection in his fingers as the Shield had captured his with the leash. He suddenly needed the other man’s cock like he needed air. Needed it in his hand, his mouth, his ass, anywhere, as long as he could be filled up with Gladio.

“I want … “ Ignis trailed off, not knowing what to say when he wanted everything, and wanted it all at once. “Sir I want _you_.” He winced, aware of how feeble his effort to articulate himself had been.

Gladio had noticed as well of course, and the leash slid free of Ignis’s cock. He tugged on it sharply, jolting Ignis forward onto his hands and knees, knocking him into the side of the bed.

“No. Don’t overthink.” Another tug on the leash for emphasis before it went slack again and Ignis was once again permitted the dignity of kneeling upright. “Try again.”

Ignis tried and failed to meet Gladio’s eyes. He knew the amber irises would be as warm and infused with love as ever, but he felt that his failure to communicate warranted some form of penance.  Breathing deeply Ignis let his eyes drift closed and he did as instructed, he spoke his desire without worrying about being artful or clever or anticipating what Gladio wanted to hear.

“I want you to fuck me into oblivion, Sir.”

A feral groan was ripped from Gladio’s throat.  Ignis being obscene always pushed him over the edge. Wordlessly the older man tugged on the leash, leading Ignis up onto the bed, his own bed, where he needed permission to ascend.

That night Gladio pushed Ignis into the mattress on his back, and kept Ignis’s leash firmly wrapped around one hand. The Advisor could tell just from the way Gladio looked at him, from the shifting of his golden eyes that he was enraptured by the sight of him in a collar. The man seemed hardly able to look away from the strip of dark leather at his throat.

Ignis spread his thighs welcomingly to Gladio, lean hips arching off of the mattress in a silent invitation, a wordless plea that exposed his tight opening. Still never taking his eyes off of Ignis’s face, Gladio reached down, fingertips tracing their way along the cleft of his ass until they circled his entrance.

Ignis felt himself surrounded by pleasure, assaulted by sensation from all sides.

He felt Gladio’s fingers skillfully working at his entrance, his body tight and aching, the sensations slowly melting into waves that were more pleasure than pain. He felt the soft leather leash being dragged across his chest, Gladio taking great pleasure out of dragging it across sensitive nipples. Fearful that he would lose control of himself and touch himself without permission, Ignis reached up, trembling fingers searching blindly for the headboard. Finding it, he curled his fingers around the wooden latticework, clinging tightly, his body strained and taut before Gladio, who growled his approval.

Sex with Gladio was always an adventure. At times he was a tender and considerate lover who enjoyed taking his time, wringing every ounce of pleasure out of Ignis that he could as their gazes locked together with wordless expressions of love. At other times he was passionate and raw, manhandling Ignis into position, roughly having his way with him, chasing his own pleasure through Ignis’s flesh.

That night Gladio was a masterclass in possession. He tugged on the leash until the collar strained across Ignis’s throat. He would periodically press his fingers to Ignis’s mouth, tugging his plush lower lip down, forcing his digits in to be bathed and wettened by a willing tongue since they had lost track of Ignis’s lubricant. When he finally deemed Ignis’s entrance prepared, he slung Ignis’s leg up and over his own broad shoulder and drove his cock into him in one slow, firm thrust, seating himself like a king atop his conquest inside of Ignis.

Gladio pressed one hand against Ignis’s hip, fingers digging into his flesh, forming finger-shaped bruises that would tantalize and delight Ignis for days.  His other hand, leash still looped around the wrist, came up to Ignis’s chest, possessively raking his fingertips along taut muscles again and again, sometimes stopping to tweak an aching nipple into further arousal. Ignis cried out at every scrape of Gladio’s nails, every incidental caress of the leash against his skin. He screamed with raw pleasure every time the head of Gladio’s cock drove into the sensitive cluster of nerves at Ignis’s core.  Ignis would be hoarse by morning but Gods was it worth it.

Gladio set a blistering pace and Ignis was helpless to do anything but try to keep up. The Shield snapped his hips down, driving his cock in and out of Ignis with reckless abandon. The behemoth of a man leaned his weight into the movements, causing Ignis’s body to rock deeply into the bed, and even causing the bed to jolt and rock against the floor and into the wall. All the while Gladio’s burning gaze remained fixed on Ignis, on his pet’s features flush with arousal, on the throat straining to gasp in air beneath the collar that he had placed there, at Ignis’s normally tidy hair, mussed beyond any hope of repair as he was plowed into the bed.

Ignis felt the familiar heat pooling in his gut, seeping into his aching cock. He felt his orgasm spiralling within him, a coiled spring that threatened to burst at any moment. He whimpered, eyes squeezing firmly shut as he willed himself to not give in, to ride out Gladio’s pleasure first, to wait until or if Gladio deigned to permit him his own release. Breath hissing out with each of Gladio’s thrusts, Ignis concentrated on rolling his hips to meet the downward thrusts, trying to match Gladio’s merciless rhythm.

Within minutes Ignis’s salvation was upon him. Gladio’s body was tense and trembling with his own approaching climax. Breathless and hoarse with pure wanting, Gladio ground out. “Come for me, pet. Come.”

In near perfect unison they released, both crying out, their voices mingling in a symphony of debauchery and lust. It seemed to take an age for them each to spend their load, Gladio into Ignis and Ignis across the sharply cut lines of Gladio’s abdominals.  Moaning and weak, Ignis released his clenched grip on his headboard. Gladio slipped out of him, collapsing onto his back at Ignis’s side.  Boldly taking initiative, Ignis eased himself down until he could reach Gladio’s stomach, flicking his tongue out to lap at his own come. He paused a moment to gauge Gladio’s reaction. When there was no reproving tug on the leash or word of admonishment Ignis redoubled his efforts, licking the other man clean amid a chorus of satisfied moans that echoed from both of their lips.

“Perfect, you’re so perfect,” Gladio groaned when he could finally speak again. Ignis murmured something unintelligible and crawled back up the length of the bed to lay at Gladio’s side again.  “So good, cleaning me like that,” strong arms moved to encircle Ignis, rough palms tender against his back as Gladio pressed Ignis into a warm embrace, flush to his chest.  “I think I want to return the favour.” The soft bristles of Gladio’s beard scraped against Ignis’s cheek, heated lips found his in a searing kiss before Gladio carefully eased their bodies apart.

Gladio’s touch was gentle but firm as he shifted Ignis to lie on his stomach.  Ignis could feel the siren’s song of exhaustion trying to lull him to sleep, but such thoughts were soon banished by the sudden and surprising sensation of a warm tongue lapping at his entrance. Ignis gasped, jolting in place. “Oh Gods, Sir!” A positively lewd moan echoed throughout the room, met by a pleased little chuckle from Gladio.

Neither man had the energy for a second round, and Gladio kept his ministrations practical. His tongue darting in and out of Ignis’s hole, a velvety caress to soothe the strained muscles and dab away the remnants of Gladio’s orgasm.

When he was finished cleaning Ignis, Gladio moved back up the bed to lie with Ignis and their lips met again. Ignis could taste Gladio's essence on his tongue, combining with the taste of himself that still lingered in his own mouth. It was a most intoxicating ambrosia.

They broke apart, breathless and flushed, and both achingly satisfied. Gladio was all smiles and his touch reverential and tender as he moved to unclasp the collar from Ignis’s neck, sliding the soft leather away along with the leash so that Ignis could sleep more comfortably.

“You’re amazing.” Ignis breathed in a voice barely more than a whisper.

“You liked your housewarming gift, pet?”

“Very much, Sir.” Ignis paused, collected the scattered remnants of his thoughts. “I feel somehow more naked without it.”

Gladio’s response was to tug Ignis into his tightest embrace, one that threatened to bruise his ribs.

The next morning Ignis would screw a hook to his bedroom wall and hang the collar and leash there. It wasn’t something that one tucked away in their bedside cabinet, as if it were somehow shameful or dirty. It was something he wanted to display, wanted to see every morning and every night. He wanted its presence to be a constant encouragement to Gladio to yes _please_ take Ignis in hand and own him.

* * *

 

Over the course of the weeks following Ignis moving to his new apartment, a slow but steady migration of Gladio’s belongings had begun. It began with a few pieces of clothing here and there, discarded by the Shield as he prepared to make love to or fuck Ignis. Ignis would hand him a clean Crownsguard tracksuit in the morning and diligently launder Gladio’s abandoned clothing, clothing that inevitably found its way into the closet of the guest bedroom. It also began with just a few books and movies, items Gladio would bring over to amuse himself with while Ignis lay under his feet, working on reports. Gradually, however, a few turned into a lot, and then a lot turned into almost all. Soon Ignis’s apartment became the first place Gladio checked when he couldn’t find something.

Gladio spent as much time at Ignis’s as Ignis did. Sometimes it felt as if the Shield spent more time there than Ignis. As a standard security measure, Gladio had a key to Ignis’s place. It was common for high-ranking officials in a royal household to give keys to their respective Shields. As Noct’s advisor it was expected that Gladio would have a key to Ignis’s place for emergencies. Gladio slept at Ignis’s most nights, and would often let himself in before Ignis came home in the evening so that he was there to greet the strategist when he came home. Ignis was still at a loss as to which he preferred: coming home to the comfort of Gladio’s embrace already waiting for him, or the sweet anticipation of kneeling by the front door, waiting to hear Gladio’s footsteps down the hall, followed by his key in the lock.

Ignis knew that the prudent thing and perhaps the expected thing was to just formally invite Gladio to move in. It would change very little regarding their current relationship, really. The wonderful warm amber and orange apartment with the big bookcases and arched windows would become _their_ apartment, dubbed “Gladio and Ignis’s place” by their friends, rather than simply “Ignis’s place”.

The only problem was, Ignis didn’t know how to broach the subject, and with each passing day as it became more and more ludicrous that Gladio didn’t officially live with him, it became harder and harder to bring it up.

Of all people, it was Clarus Amicitia who gave the pair the proverbial kick in the pants that they needed. The elder Shield cornered them on the way out of a Council meeting, one of those not-so-subtle instances where Gladio just happened to be lurking in the hallway to share heated looks with Ignis as the young Advisor moved between appointments.  With half of the Council and even the King himself still present (looking on with poorly concealed amusement and satisfaction) Clarus had squared off against his son and Ignis and demanded to know when the two of them planned to ‘make this official, because by Gods I want to convert that boy’s bedroom into a parlor already!”

Ignis had felt his cheeks nearly burst into flames, and his eyes flit helplessly from Clarus to Gladio and then even to the King, who shrugged helplessly at him and continued to fail at hiding a grin.

In the middle of the Citadel’s hallways, with the most powerful men in Lucis surrounding them, Gladio and Ignis locked eyes, both equally embarrassed by the attention and relieved at having someone else stubborn enough to broach the subject for him.  They held one of their famous silent conversations before they nodded and turned as one to bow before the King and Shield.

“I’ll have my stuff out by the weekend, Dad,” Gladio muttered, chin tucking down a bit further than required in a futile effort to conceal his own blush.

Bowing to the King once more, Gladio grabbed Ignis by the arm and all but dragged him away from the Council hall, both trying desperately to ignore Clarus and Regis chortling in their wake.

“Oh my Gods,” Ignis moaned, burying his face in his hands once they had dashed down enough hallways and around enough corners to feel relatively safe. “Did that really just happen? Not that I mind the outcome, but…”

Gladio let out a ragged breath. “They’re like a pair of teenage girls, I swear.”

“Your father must really want your room back.”

Gladio ran his hands over his face, obviously trying to compose himself. “Are you okay, though? I can’t believe they just sprang that on us like that in front of half the fucking Council.” The Prince’s Shield leaned heavily against the wall, brow pressed to the cool marble panelling. “You deserved to be asked that over dinner, with flowers and candlelight and a string quartet.”

Ignis laughed softly and moved to lay a hand across Gladio’s back. “Did you have the band booked yet?”

Gladio grumbled into the wall. “Well no.”

“Well then,” Ignis reached up, fingers seeking Gladio’s jaw, turning the taller man to face him. “Your father saved you a lot of trouble, then.” He smiled. “I don’t need flowers and romance. That’s not exactly how you wooed me.”

“You’re right.” Gladio leaned down to press their lips together, until Ignis thought he could melt into the other man. They broke apart, breathless and gasping, both smiling bright enough to rival the sun. “Let me at least ask you properly, though. Ignis, my darling pet, shall we move in together?”

Ignis laid a tender hand atop Gladio’s chest, as Gladio pressed his palms to Ignis’s cheeks, cupping the Advisor’s face so tenderly that it made Ignis’s soul ache. “Nothing would make me happier.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


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